Pact
by Senri
Summary: Gaz breaks through and Dib breaks out, preparing to go after Zim. ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY
1. Prologue

Fzzt.  Fzzt.  CLICK 

  

"Audio connection established." 

  

Fzzt.  Fzzt.  CLICK.

  

"Visual connection established."

  

"Zim."

  

Deep in the lowest chamber of his base, an Irken soldier pulled himself away from an ominously hissing piece of equipment to turn his attention to the steady glow of a communications screen.  There were two spindly, looming silhouettes blotted across the screen.  Vague red and purple blobs implied large, liquid eyes, and Zim could see that the long thin lines of their mouths were tense with worry.  Their antennae were pulled back anxiously; Red's long claws ticked anxiously against his armor.  The object of their gazes turned slowly to face the screen, wiping grease from his long claws with a dirt-speckled rag.  The presence of his leaders seemed to take a moment to dawn on him, but when the sight finally penetrated his fatigue-clouded brain, Zim jumped to ramrod-straight attention.  The dirty bit of cloth fell forgotten from his fingers.

  

"Yes, my Tallest?"

  

"We're coming, Zim."

  

Zim's eyes widened fractionally.  A small, traitorous part of his brain was surprised by this information; some part of him had started to wonder if the Massive would ever turn its bulk towards this so-distant, filthy clod of dirt. But of course, now they were coming. Finally. The long stalemate between him and Dib would be over, and Zim would be free of this planet, free of the constant stinking flesh of humans, free of the horrible RAIN and everything else. Free.

He bowed his head before them, wiggling his antennae in dutiful salute.

  

"My Tallest...  when will you arrive?"

  

"We're four months out, Zim."

  

It had been Purple speaking this entire time, with Red sitting silently beside him, pinning the much smaller Invader with a calculating stare.  Now the other leader spoke.

  

"We've declared war, Zim."

  

Purple closed his eyes, let his heavy head tilt back.  Red kept talking, in a low, grating, aggressive voice.  "That's why we're coming.  We neeeeed these resources, this planet.  Pull out all the stops, Zim.  I don't care what you do; have that planet subjugated and ready for exploitation by the time we arrive.  We want everything this planet can give us."

  

Zim saluted, a little wild-eyed.  He didn't speak.

  

Red regarded him stonily.  "You see.  Good."  The tall Irken leaned forward until his huge crimson eyes seemed to fill the screen.  "We need everything we can get to win this war, Zim.  _Don't_ fail us."

  

The screen flicked to black.  A long metal tendril reached out to tap Zim- almost tentatively- on the shoulder.  "Connection severed, Master."

  

Zim slumped silently towards the screen for another minute.  Then his head snapped up; his pose solidified.  He was an Irken soldier again, the sudden compulsive fear wrestled under bravado.

  

"I can SEE that, computer!"  Zim whirled about to march fiercely towards the elevator.  His eyes were as hard and as cold as rubies.  The delicate, ominous machine that he had been working on was forgotten.  Zim's roar echoed throughout his base.  "Now come on!  I have much to do!"

End of prologue

_Well. So this is done. For those of you who are interested, there is more planned, as if that wasn't obvious. I hope this beginning isn't too cliché. I hope you'll have some patience with this… Umm… Yeah. Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated. Don't eat my spine._


	2. So Slowly Creeping

Dib was never entirely sure where he stood with Zim.

Even through four years of studying Zim, battling with him, and thwarting his psychotic schemes, Dib still didn't understand the smallest part of his rival's mind. It made him vaguely happy, that Zim was still such a mystery to him. But then, sometimes, it was frustrating, to never truly be able to predict a pattern in Zim's attacks, never able to hazard a guess as to what was going on behind the alien's feverish grin and glowing red eyes. Dib wondered, sometimes, whether Zim even realized that his only enemy was a child. And then there were other moments, where Dib thought that the alien was holding back… pulling his punches. Waiting for something. For what, though? Dib found himself wondering, more and more often now. For me to learn to drive? Go to college? Be allowed to drink? 

There was really no way for Dib to tell. At least… not yet.

Dib placed his thin white hands onto his keyboard and began to type. The quick ticking seemed very loud in the heavy silence of his room.

____________________________________________________

The elevator whooshed smoothly to the upper levels of Zim's base, and upwards still to the tasteless lime-green caricature of a building that Zim called his 'house'. The elevator disgorged him in a hall, and the Invader scrambled out and stood thinking, hatching the slapdash beginnings of plots in moments and discarding them just as quickly. What to do, what to do, to bring this planet to its knees when again and again his plans had failed or been foiled by the filthy Dib-creature?

The familiar name brought another thought to his mind. Dib, at least, would have a lot to think about with the sudden cessation of the almost-playful contests their battles had become. Now, the _real_ test of the worm's mettle would begin. Zim's wide mouth curled into a grin, and he let out a high, wavering cackle at the very thought. There, there was _one_ positive thing about this situation, and it was certain there were more, just waiting to fall into place, just waiting to be revealed to the might of ZIM.

The alien stormed into the living room. GIR was planted in front of the television, gorging himself on junk food, as usual. The little robot was wearing the body of his dog suit with the head dangling behind like a disturbing hood. The green plush fur of GIR's front was smeared with food; more was caked on his face. The SIR unit was staring, hypnotized, at the screen, where the Scary Monkey hopped about screaming and frothing at the mouth. The noise and the stench of the filth-infested human food GIR loved was an assault on Zim's senses. The Invader gave the scene a disgusted once-over, and then stormed over to the TV (avoiding a stickily spreading puddle of Poop Cola GIR had spilled) and turned it off.

Ahh. Silence.

Broken about a second later as GIR cut loose with a wrenching wail.

"Master! The Monkey! The Monkey, I loveded him! Where did he goooooo?"

The robot leaped from his seat to hurtle over to the television, leaving a trail of drifting candy wrappers. Zim was almost bowled over. GIR raced around the TV, in something of a panic.

"Monkey! Monkey! Where are you?! Come back! I promise to treat you good! I have cookies!"

Zim caught his raving minion by the flapping ears of his dog suit and hauled him away into a corner. Then he lifted the tantruming, screaming robot into the air (still by his ears) and just held him there.

Eventually, the robot quieted down. His wailing stopped as if someone had thrown a switch (granted, a switch probably had been thrown, somewhere inside his head), and two cyan, mindlessly cheerful eyes peered into Zim's own. GIR smiled, his tongue poking cutely out of the corner of his mouth. Then he started to swing himself slowly back and forth. Zim glared at him.

"Hi Master!"

Reassured that his slave had recovered from his fit, Zim set his robot down and began to peel GIR's soiled disguise off. GIR giggled softly, enjoying the attention.

"I made some cookies, Master. Do you want some?"

Zim finished peeling the suit off of GIR. He pinched a fold of the green fabric between his thumb and forefinger and held the limp, reeking costume as far away from himself as he could. Zim shuddered to think of the mess GIR had made in the kitchen, making his cookies. At least the great ZIM would not have to dirty his hands cleaning up after his robot; the computer could see to that.

"What FILTH have you caused with these… cookies, GIR?"

"D'you want one?!"

"No."

GIR looked stupidly up at Zim, apparently not convinced. "Are you suuuure?" he asked. "They're tuna-fish-chocolate-chip!"

The SIR unit produced a fishy-smelling cookie studded with chocolate chips, and proceeded to wave it temptingly in his master's face. Zim recoiled and gave his robot the evil eye.

GIR, completely oblivious, ate the cookie himself. Zim rapped on the robot's head to gain his attention. "Aaaanyway, GIR, I came to tell you to guard the house. I'm going out. Don't let anyone else in."

GIR's eyes flared red. "Yes, my Master! I obey!"

Zim went to put on his disguise, rapping out orders to the computer to "clean up that GERM-infested kitchen and get GIR another dog suit!" as he went. Zim dropped off the dirty disguise at the incinerator level; it was likely the fur had been permanently stained, and there were plenty of spares.

After Zim had placed the contacts onto his eyes and slipped a scratchy black wig over his sensitive antennae, he went out into the moist night air and turned his path towards Dib's house.

____________________________________________________

Dib was jolted from his work-induced trance by Gaz banging rudely into his room and thumping him sharply on the head with her book. The skinny paranormalist switched off the monitor and twisted to look irritably at his sister. His back ached just a little from hunching for so long; without the pale glow of his monitor there was hardly any light in the room. Dib's blinds were pulled down, and thin striped of smoky orange light gave everything a sulpherous glow and made his bare back shine golden. The door was cracked slightly now too, and dim light slanted in, illuminating piles of dirty clothes and food-encrusted dishes. Gaz wrinkled her nose a little at the mess but didn't say anything.

"What do you want?" Dib finally asked her. It was hard to outwait Gaz when she was unwilling to speak, and the quicker she removed herself from his room the sooner Dib could get back to work.

"Zim's outside."

"So?"

"So go out there and talk to him, stupid. He asked for you."

"I don't care. Tell him to go away."

Gaz stamped lungingly forward. Dib flinched back fearfully against his desk, the smooth-grained wood digging into his bare back. Gaz grabbed a clump of dark hair and yanked his face close to her own. "I _did_. Twenty _minutes_ ago. He's been banging on the door _since_ then. Didn't you _hear_ it?"

Dib slowly shook his head. Gaz snorted contemptuously.

"Well now you _know_, idiot! So _go_!" She released him and stepped back to pin him with an "or else" glare. Dib sputtered and recovered.

"At least let me put a _shirt_ on, Gaz!"

His sister considered this. "Fine. But don't take too long, or you can go out there _naked_." Gaz walked over and stood in the doorway. "I'll go tell him you're coming."

Dib slammed the door behind her and muttered a soft curse. He really didn't want to go talk to Zim. Stupid Gaz; it was her fault. With as much junk food as she ate, he was surprised that she wasn't fifty pounds heavier. He wished that Gaz _was_ a little chubbier; it might make her a little easier to dodge.

Dib began to sort through the piles of junk on his floor, looking for his trademark blue T-shirt with the bland grey face. Gaz's threat was most likely serious; she really _would_ make her brother go out and face his enemy in the buff.

Dib leaped down the stairs two at a time. Gaz was slumped on the couch, hands folded over her stomach and expression unreadable. A plate with a piece of cold, greasy pizza sat on the low table in front of the couch. The TV was on, the volume low; Dib glanced at the flickering figures darting across the screen without any real interest. "I'm going now." He said, mostly to confirm it to himself. Gaz's ochre-colored eyes flicked towards him, but she made no other motion.

Dib didn't bother to put shoes on; he wasn't in the mood for a fight and if Zim had knocked on the door instead of simply bursting in, the alien probably wasn't feeling confrontational either.

The muggy air hit him like a wall as he stepped outside and closed the door. Summer was just starting and it was already miserably hot. The pavement was slick with rain. Streetlights spread orange halos across the street and sidewalk, and Zim was standing in the warm glow under a street lamp. He had retreated to the end of the drive to await his enemy. Dib was mildly disappointed; standing in the steps leading to his door would have given him a few extra inches and the added height seemed to intimidate his rival. But then, Dib supposed that it didn't really matter. Dib ventured out to the middle of their lawn and stopped there, waiting.

Zim, however, didn't seem inclined to venture closer. Dib could see him peering at the human through his ridiculous contacts, just staring coldly and blinking and not about to set foot on enemy territory. Stupid alien probably thought he had booby-trapped the lawn or something. Dib snorted softly to himself, irritated, and then gave in and walked slowly across the grass to stand on the sidewalk, about six feet away from his rival. The paving was pleasantly cool on the soles of his feet, but Dib could feel his shirt becoming damp with sweat. Zim seemed to be able to smell Dib's perspiration; his smooth green face wrinkled distastefully. Dib stood oozing sweat and wondering what the Hell the alien had dragged him out here for, banging at the door for twenty minutes and then not wanting to talk to his rival.

"What do _you_ want?" Dib finally asked. This seemed to be his night for opening conversations.

Zim stared at him for another moment. Dib had the uncomfortable feeling that Zim was looking inside of his head, evaluating and making a judgment upon his enemy. Dib felt pinned and exposed.

The human had just started to think that his rival was never going to talk when Zim blinked slowly and said in a harsh voice, "This is all going to end soon. I just thought you might like to know."

Dib felt a slow curling of nervousness. Did Zim have some secret weapon concealed on his person, and had he brought it out here to be tested on Dib? Zim's normally expressive face was unreadable; there was no trace of the crazed glee that Dib was used to. Was Zim speaking to him as an equal? Was he serious, for once?

"…What?" Dib managed, still thinking furiously.

"You heard me." Zim stared at Dib with a look of sudden, ferocious contempt. Only a second, and they were no longer equals. "This farce, this game, it's ending. It's over. Obsolete."

Zim stepped closed to Dib, mindless of the smell, a twiggy green figure that only came up to the human's shoulder. He lowered his head aggressively. "We'll see what you're really made of now, human."

That said, he turned sharply on his heel and began to march quickly down the sidewalk away from Dib. It was surprising, how quickly the confrontation had turned to an unflustered retreat… and that had been a confrontation, hadn't it? Not like their usual ones, filled with wild chases and posturing. This one had been tamer, but somehow more… real. More serious.

Dib broke from his thoughts and began to chase after his rival. The time to get to the bottom of this was now.

The soft slaps of his bare feet made against the pavement could barely be heard against the stomping of Zim's boots, but the alien heard or sensed the approaching human somehow, and when Dib was two feet away reaching out a hand to place it on Zim's shoulder the alien whipped about and caught Dib's wrist tightly. The human recoiled slightly from Zim's expression, and the Invader felt a slight welling of satisfaction. It was rare that Zim had Dib really, truly scared, and the human was afraid now. Something had passed between them this night, standing quietly on the sidewalk, that made the human susceptible to this fear; in five minutes of quiet speech Zim had made more of an impression on Dib then he had in four years of constant battle with the human. Zim could feel Dib's wildly-fluttering pulse in his skinny arm, the too-warm, runny human blood racing through his veins carrying endorphins and adrenaline. Zim was suddenly aware of how empty and quiet the street around them was. Nobody passing by. If Zim chose to take steps and end this now, there would be nobody around to stop him… no filthy squealing pig-human to observe Dib's death and sound the alarm.

And what other human would care, truly? This was Dib, the friendless social outcast that Zim had studied, tormented, fought, allied himself with, for these long four years that he had been on earth. It would be easy to kill him right here.

Which was why the human would live… tonight.

Dib yanked his wrist away the moment Zim loosened his grip. Zim could see red marks on the humans pale skin; he supposed he'd been clenching his hand tighter then he thought. Dib backed away a little, rubbing at his wrist and shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes darted back and forth. The human was ready to run.

Zim stepped even closer to Dib, invading the human's personal space. Dib backed away a little, breathing quickly. He really was just a child, and he wanted to run away. Zim felt an overwhelming rush of contempt mingled with pity, and he stepped even closer to Dib, backing the human down the sidewalk. Zim stopped when Dib stumbled onto his lawn, allowing the child to back to a more secure distance. "See you tomorrow, _Dib_." Zim said, grinning. "I'd love to play, but I have things to do."

He turned away, and this time Dib didn't follow him.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

____________________________________________________

_Well, that was interesting, wasn't it? Things are happening, hurrah. I hope all those of you who liked the beginning aren't disappointed here._

Sorry for leaving this hanging for such an appallingly long period of time; I've been busy with all sorts of things, being a jock and keeping up with school and stuff. Sorry. My shoulders are so very sore, and when I started to type this I was feeling all floaty and shaky from an inhaler that I took. You see, I'm also trying to get rid of an EXTREMELY nasty cough. I felt rather as though I were on a bit of violently heaving sea; not bad, but strange. Fortunately I don't get seasick. Heh.

On a more on-topic note, something that always puzzles me is how Gaz remains thin in future fics. As a little kid, her metabolism is probably quick enough to make up for all the FAT she eats… but as a teen and an adult, that would slow down. Someday, I will write a future fic where Gaz is a porcine blob and Dib makes money by posing for Seventeen magazine. I guess she could be one of those naturally thin people but… argh!

And to conclude, thank you to my lovely, lovely reviewers. I adore you all. Want a foot rub? I'm here. It's really flattering to me, to have fan fiction authors I love and admire reading my little fic and liking it. Thanks to all of you!


	3. A Knight and his Gauntlet

Dib backed across the lawn to lean against the door and watched Zim march away. The memory of the alien's predatory stance and the strange, surging prowl he had menaced Dib with still made the pale boy shudder. He had found Zim's quiet, deadly-serious threats to be far more intimidating than the usual maniacal glee and insane laughter the alien expressed.

_I should go after him,_ Dib thought. _See what he's up to this time._ And yet, whatever had caused the sudden shift in attitude was probably nothing much, and Zim was long gone now. And somehow, the scare the alien had given him had shaken Dib's usual eager desire for their contest of wills. There would be time later to find out what his rival was up to.

Having thus reassured himself, Dib turned around and went inside.

Gaz restored to TV to its normal volume when he walked by, and Dib tromped up the stairs to his room, feeling suddenly tired. Zim's dire announcement wormed its way back into Dib's thoughts and he paused at the top of the stairs, wondering if it would be a better idea to go out and find what Zim was up to now. He had never heard such serious words come from Zim; what if he was really in danger? Hadn't he better start preparing now?

_No._

_No. Just this once… just this once, I'd like a chance to rest._

Dib closed the door firmly behind him. He took off his shirt and pants and removed his glasses, setting them neatly on the dresser, then stretched out on top of the covers, folding his arms behind his head and staring lazily at the ceiling. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy and closed them, left with only the darkness of his own mind.

Later, later, Zim's words still came back to haunt him, no matter how he tried to think of something else. _What are you planning, Zim?_ he thought, over and over. _What are you up to?_

Nobody knew.

_______________________________________________

The first thing to be abolished when the planet was his would be skool, Zim decided. Four years stuck in the musty, overcrowded buildings had given him a deep hatred of desks, cafeterias, locker rooms, tardy bells, and every other thing about skools; and this was not mentioning the even greater hatred that he possessed for the horde of human stinkpiglets that infested the building.

It would be a relief to escape the misery that was Hi!Skool.

The classroom was stifling hot after six hours of occupation by various groups of humans. The teacher droned endlessly about some extremely-important end-of-the-year test they were taking today at the head of the classroom. Zim propped his head on his hand and stared out the window. Outside it was drenched with sunlight, and Zim could see the leaves of the trees ruffling slightly. He ached to be outside- not that he enjoyed the earth environment, but anywhere would be better than inside this stifling classroom filled with WHISPERING NOTE-PASSING PIGS. The room was far too small for the forty people crammed into it.

Sheets of paper were passed back. Zim looked his over without any real interest, and then picked up his pencil and began to fill it out… it was something to do, at least, and required no effort on his part. He had downloaded all the information covered in the course into his pak at the beginning.

When he was finished, he slouched to stare out the window again, a glazed expression covering his features. The heat made him feel irritable but also slightly sluggish. _I should plan,_ he thought to himself, _ don't want to though._ All he wanted was to get out of this place before it stifled him.

A wadded up ball of paper clipped the side of his head and Zim stifled a screech of rage. Dib, slouched three seats behind Zim, had obviously finished his test as well, and was probably as bored as his rival. Zim twisted around to shoot the human a warning snarl. _Don't bother me now, I can't kill you for it here._ Dib glared hotly right back, and Zim turned back around in his seat, determined to ignore the paranormalist.

Another wad of paper hit him in the head and stuck. Zim bounded onto his desk and whirled around to face Dib. "Rrgh! You STUPID stinkmonkey, tormenting the highly superior cranium of ZIM! How DARE you! Keep your sticky wads of wood pulp to YOURSELF!"

The teacher narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't talk during the test, Zim!" she snapped. The rest of the class ignored his outburst.

Zim sat down, leaned his head on his arm, and stared out the window again. Outside, the sky was a loving blue. What passed for beautiful here didn't cut it for Zim; he so missed the amber skies of Irk, the splendor of their fleets and hangars, the crisp, oily scent of the air. This planet couldn't compare; it was so LOWLY, an absolutely unsalvageable glob of mud. Zim had no regrets at the thought of earth turned into a parking planet or a mall. He knew that he had to remain strong, no matter how the planet wore at him: earth was a stubborn planet, not because its citizens were particularly diligent or smart but because… because he had limited himself in his position as a high skooler. The skool locked him in place, took up too much of his time. What he really needed was a way to bypass the eternal paperwork that humans presented themselves with. How had he not noted this before?

Dib, the heat, and his discomfort forgotten, Zim stared out the window and began to plan.

Almost an hour later, the alien pulled himself out of his trance. It was only a moment before the bell would ring, and he quickly handed his paper up and edged to the fringe of the crowd that was queuing up at the door before the bell. The bell rang, and the students began to jostle around each other to get into the hallway. It was finally time to leave.

Zim hung back to avoid being caught in the crush of humans, and when they had funneled out realized that Dib had stayed back as well and was watching him now. The alien ground his teeth and stormed out the door, ignoring his rival.

But the human made himself impossible to ignore; he dogged Zim's footsteps through the door, and followed in the clear wake the alien left behind. Zim didn't look back; he locked his eyes resolutely forward and concentrated on forging a path through his fellow students using the sharp legs from his pak. (No on except Dib even noticed that Zim had a highly advanced piece of technology fused to his back and was using it to move people out of his way. They all just thought he had really sharp elbows.)

Dib surged up to stumble along just behind his rival's shoulder. Zim could smell the rankness of his sweat and the miasma of subdued fear that followed Dib through the school; it made him want to gag. "What were you talking about last night, Zim?!" the human hissed. "I don't know what you're planning, but I swear that I'll find out!"

Zim snorted and pushed sideways through the crowd to get to his locker. Dib followed him a moment later; other students swore and shoved at him. The alien twirled in the combination to unlock the primitive storage unit the school provided its students with, not looking at Dib. "Pathetic," he hissed at the human. "Zim issues a _challenge_, right in front of your filthy face, and all you can do is spout the same whining threats you've been mouthing all along!"

Dib flushed. "You stupid alien! I'm not-"

"Prove it, Dib!" Zim barked back. People around the hall turned to stare and then looked away without interest. "Come on! Can you really take me on?! Are you just going to run away after all these years?"

Dib thought Zim would continue then, but the green-skinned creature stopped and turned to stare at him coldly. His eyes were absolutely unfeeling, and the square indigo pupils gave Dib the chills. He wanted to take the contacts out, reveal the alien for what he was…

What Zim had just issued to him… was a challenge, wasn't it? Last night had been a warning to make Dib keep his distance. But now the alien had thrown down the gauntlet; would Dib pick it up? This was the culmination of everything, he felt. His entire life had been building up in preparation for this moment…

The alien still stared at him; as Dib remained silent, he sneered and turned away. Zim had apparently reached his own conclusions.

Dib quietly slipped off his backpack and swung it like a wrecking ball into Zim's head.

It wasn't a purse filled with bricks, but the titanium-coated laptop worked well enough.

END CHAPTER 2

_I know, I know… long time without updating. I'm sorry. Things came up in normal life that sort of took me away from this fic. Hopefully production will speed up now, though. Thank you to all the people who reviewed the last chapter. I'm grateful to you all._

I hope that the people in here are still in character. If not, please point out where they deviate from how they should be acting. Keeping them in character while also letting them grow in the ways they… I don't know, need to maybe? is the most important thing to me in this fic. Thanks.


	4. Picking up the Gauntlet

Zim's head slammed into the back of his locker with a clang; the slick green skin on his forehead split where it had impacted the metal and he bit his lip so hard it bled.

Boiling rage instantly replaced any pain there might have been. Zim slammed the door closed and lunged after Dib. The human had already bolted to the end of the hall, trench coat snapping. Dib made his decision and took a hard left, and Zim, seething, followed him.

The crowd of students instantly brought him up short, and Zim hissed and flailed and frustration. It was like pushing down on SAND, just wasting energy… the grains gave under pressure and there was no PROGRESS! And Dib was still getting AWAY!

In a fit of despair Zim pressed out his spider legs and braced them against the lockers, wincing at the horrible screechy noises they made. Then he scrabbled madly to lodge the pointed tips into the dingy school wall. The legs left little holes in the plaster as he took off after the human; the pressing cow-herds of students below brushed irritably at their heads and bits of the walls fell down on them.

It was easy to gain on the Dib traveling this way; soon Zim spotted the human's narrow back through the press. The alien could also see older, bulkier males shoving at Dib as the boy passed and grinned madly. Dib's fellow Hi Skoolers were doing Zim's work for him!

Almost from above, Zim saw the boy trip, and instantly the alien snapped the spider legs back into his pak and dropped into the crowd. Dib had instantly caught himself and starting up again but the other students had already seized upon the boy's weakness. Males that held higher places than Dib's in the strange tribe structure of Hi Skool swarmed down upon their vulnerable classmate with an animal roar. Zim laughed at the sight of it; no one even noticed.

A ragged ring had formed; Zim jabbed and fought his way to the edge of it, ignoring the cursing and light slaps his aggression prompted. When Zim saw who Dib was facing he grinned.

Torque Smacky hadn't grown any nicer when he hit puberty, and he hadn't grown any fonder of Dib either.

The pale human didn't even notice his enemy in the "audience"; he had eyes only for Smacky. Zim was jealous for a moment that the meaty Smacky human could inspire more fear in Dib then he could; and then the alien showed his teeth in a snarl of amusement. _See how well you can surprise attack HIM, stinkbeast!_ Dib was incredibly fast- Zim knew this from experience- but the boy was also light and his strength was no match for Smacky's. With his classmates hemming him in there was no place for Dib to run.

Not that the boy would fight back anyway. He turned pathetic and oozy-spineless when threatened by his classmates.

The noise from the surrounding students rose to a feverish roar and then cut suddenly to silence. Zim pulled his hands from where he had clamped them down on his wig to muffle to wave of sound, realizing that Smacky had started to speak.

"Do you think you're too good to walk with the rest of us, fag?" Torque glared at Dib, his blocky jaw set tight. Jessica stood at his shoulder; her lower lip was pushed out in a pout but her eyes glinted nastily. "He pushed me, Torque," she squealed, batting at her boyfriend's shoulder. "He made me drop my books!"

Torque's blocky jaw set. Nothing Dib said or did would save him now; all that remained in the human's fate was complete humiliation. And pain. Zim stifled a laugh; he didn't want to draw Smacky's attention to himself.

Dib backed away slowly. Zim could see his hands shaking. "No," he said, "I just wanted to get out of the school- I'm sorry, I'll pick up your books-" The human was so desperate to get out of a beating that he would offer almost anything. Zim wished that his threats to Dib worked that well.

Smacky lunged towards Dib suddenly; the other human wasn't prepared for the attack and caught the force of the blow head on. Dib fell into the crowd; his classmates laughed and shoved him back. The boy fell.

"I don't care, dumbass!" Torque bellowed, clenching his meaty fists. "You should know not to get in the way of people better then you! You're brain is crazy in you're big head!"

Now Dib looked up, ire flashing onto his face. Just like that, the head remark set him off. Zim rolled his eyes. One would think the boy would be used to it by now. "My head's not big! And I didn't hurt anyone, so back off!"

Five years of torment- no, even more- for speaking his mind, and the Dib-beast still hadn't learned to shut up.

Smacky reached down, grabbed the collar of Dib's trench coat, dragged him up, and punched him in the face. Dib fell hard into the crowd; his glasses dropped onto the floor by Zim's feet. One earpiece was snapped off. Without really thinking about it Zim picked them up, twisting the slim pieces of metal in his claws.

The humans around Zim hurled Dib back into the makeshift ring with a rumble of animal noise. The blow had instantly launched them into a frenzy of violence. Fists pumped in the air and they all pressed closer; Zim let the current carry him forward and deliberately stepped hard on the fallen human's hand. There was no chance for Dib to get up, although Zim could see him trying to struggle to his feet. The students pressed closest to Dib hit him and kicked at him, and Zim heard his enemy cry out- the higher pitch of his scream cut through the humming noise of the others. Under his wig, Zim pressed his antennae even closer to his scalp. It tuned the raging voices down to a low buzz. A warm body thumped against his leg and Zim stumbled and almost fell himself; he extended his spider legs because he knew to fall would be to join Dib as a victim. He looked to see who had almost made him trip and saw it was Dib.

The human was clamping one hand tight to his shoulder. His face was slick and red, and Zim could smell the blood- warm and juicy like pulped Horrlen fruit. His mouth watered and Zim swallowed with disgust. Then he gave the child a hard kick at the base of his ribcage, filled with a roaring hungry triumph.

Dib had watched Zim as he did it.

Now his eyes squeezed shut. His face scrunched with agony. The stinkbeast actually reached out to grab at the edge of Zim's boot to help pull himself up; Zim kicked him away. Dib's mouth moved. Was he saying something? Zim leaned closer.

"PLEASE, Zim!" he heard, just barely over the noise. He didn't say anymore but Zim knew they rest: _Help me._

He gave the human a twisted grin. _You dare to ask me, Zim, your ENEMY, for help?_ Then he put a boot on Dib's shoulder and shoved the boy away. Other humans covered him almost instantly. Faces flashed by the alien's vision; they were contorted with an animalistic joy.

"Hey, what are you all doing?"

A shrill voice sliced cleanly through the cacophony. Zim felt suddenly as though he were coming down from a "high" on one of those drugs the humans so loved to destroy themselves with: sick and empty and wanting more.

The teacher who had yelled stared at all of them now, her face empty with horror. Iced coffee spread across the carpet at her feet; she had dropped it when she saw the mob. Her nails were long and red.

Something in him twanged, and Zim looked to her right.

Gaz was standing there, burrowed into the shadows. She looked enraged. Zim gazed blankly at her. The girl had never seemed to care much for the Dib, but Zim knew enough of human families to see how she watched out for her brother in subtle ways. Dib never saw her defending him.

A mutter passing through the crowd drew Zim's attention back to the students around him. The children were shifting and shuffling around each other; Zim could taste guilt in the air now, and shame. Some at the back began to steal away, filtering into the confusing skool halls, and then the entire pack turned tail and ran.

The momentum of their flight carried Zim back too. Their cowardice made his lip curl with contempt. _You're all so brave when nobody's here to stop you worms. Then one of those teachers comes along and you all run. Filthy humans, a true warrior would face any challenge that came to him!_

He could hear shouting starting from the teacher. Zim jostled his way to the edge of the fracturing mob and pulled out to lean against the lockers. Their metal doors were cool, and he pressed the back of his head against one to calm the feverish pounding in his brain. He would wait here for the students to pass; he wasn't finished with the Dib-worm yet.

The stragglers of the mob that had existed only a few minutes before passed him now, and teachers were chasing them. Zim roused himself to activate the cloak in his pak. A misty veil obscured his vision, but now he faded into the lockers, practically invisible to the prying gaze of any human.

Zim sat down now, feeling more relaxed. He watched Dib narrowly. The boy was stretched limply on the nubbly orange carpet, one arm cramped awkwardly under his body. Dib let out a choked, gaspy sob as Zim watched. The stinkbeast began the torturous effort of trying to lift himself. Zim's jaw tightened and he felt metal cutting into his hands. For some reason he was still holding onto Dib's broken glasses.

The female teacher returned to crouch at Dib's side. Her nails flashed like blood. "Don't try and get up, honey," she cooed. Zim gagged inwardly at the syrupy tone of her voice. "The nurse is coming, and then you can tell us who started to beat you up and we'll take care of that."

Zim narrowed his eyes. _Do you really think that will give him any satisfaction?_

Dib quit his movement at her words, letting his body settle to the floor. As Zim watched, the boy's shoulders loosened slightly and then tensed again as another sob wrenched him. Zim toyed with the broken glasses, folding and unfolding them with almost inaudible clicks. The nurse and an assistant principal arrived to pull Dib to his feet and lead him down the hall. Zim rose to follow them, padding a few steps before he noticed a ragged black lump pushed into the entryway to a boy's bathroom. Curiosity piqued, Zim took a brief detour to inspect it, and when he came closer to the object he recognized it as the beaten black pouch that Dib sometimes carried on his back. One shoulder-strap was torn to shreds but otherwise it was fine… and still neatly Zipped.

Zim snickered, filled with devilish glee. _Well what have we here, Dib? Let this get away from you?_ The alien knelt next to it and unzipped the pouch eagerly. _I guess I'll take care of what's in here for him._ When he saw what was inside, Zim crossed his arms over his chest and weathered an internal quake of glee.

Inside, there was some loose change, a book about stars- written by some foul human expert that Dib should really know not to trust- a crumpled lunch bag, and Dib's precious laptop.

Zim hardly had to think before the computer was in his hand. The metal shell was buffed to a soft silver, and it's compact weight fit neatly into Zim's hand. He set the machine reluctantly aside for a moment, and scraped all of Dib's change into his claws. After that he resealed the pack then kicked it deeper into the corner. Now when Dib found and inspected the backpack, as Zim had no doubt his rival would, the human would have no evidence that it was Zim that had taken his things, and not just some pitiful human thief. The change and the computer were the only valuable things in there, after all.

Dib would _know_ who had taken his things, of course. Zim had no doubt of that. But there was also nothing the boy could do.

That done, Zim darted after his wounded rival.

The nurse's office was cool and smelled faintly of sick human and mold. Zim observed his rival from where he crouched in the ventilation shaft. The fit was tighter then it had been before; somehow he had grown in the past few years. The alien had to force himself not to shift every few moments. The cold metal pressing against his pak unsettled him.

He had found Dib in one of the small recovery rooms; it was sparsely furnished, with an uncomfortable-looking cot and a little side table. Some attempt at cheer had been made: there was a little vase of plastic flowers on the table too. The bright colors just made the room look more pathetic, and anyway Zim couldn't imagine why the humans, even stupid as they were, would put the dead sexual organs of plants in a room for the purpose of cheering someone up.

Dib sat below and slightly in front of him, totally unaware of Zim's scrutiny. The human was a mess. The coppery scent of his blood had spread to fill the room and was filtering to Zim. The alien licked his lips and could almost taste it. The human's lip was split as well, but at least his nose had stopped bleeding; there was still blood all down his front. The nurse would probably bring him another shirt eventually. For now Dib languished in his sticky shirt, which had gone purple from the blood. His breathing was hoarse and loud in the quiet of the room, and the human sat gingerly on the cot, leaning his back against the wall. He was probably a mass of bruises.

Zim touched the cut on his forehead- clotted over now- and drew back his lips in a silent snarl. Dib deserved his pain for attacking the noble head of ZIM!

The alien lowered his hand to glare at the human. The rage that had infused him just moments before submerged itself, to be dealt with later. Dib, unaware of Zim's scrutiny, reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed. Zim ground his teeth. _You… you pitiful creature! How DARE you think that you know pain now?! How DARE you think that this is the end of your suffering?!_

Zim slid his claws under the edge of the metal grate he was looking through, preparing to drop down in front of the unsuspecting human. When the door swung open he jerked his hands back, glaring at the nurse as she walked across the linoleum to Dib. The woman carried a bag of ice cubes and had a new t-shirt folded under one of her arms.

"Here you are, honey," she said, handing him the ice. "Now put that on your face. Then you can change into a fresh shirt. I'll give your parents a call now and they can come take you home."

Dib accepted the ice and garment put didn't lie down. His ochre-colored eyes were open again. "Thank you, ma'am," he said. "I'm fine though. You don't need to call my dad, I can walk home just fine."

Zim could almost read the boy's thoughts: _I don't want dad to know about this._

The nurse looked shocked. "Walk home?! In your state?! Don't be silly, young man! You just lie down and let me take care of your father."

She bustled out without letting Dib protest any further. The skinny human sighed, setting the ice down on the cot and pulling off his cotton t-shirt. Where his skin showed Zim could already see the flowering blotches of bruises. _You're gonna HURT tonight, Dib,_ he thought maliciously, and then realized that for Dib to hurt tonight the human would still have to be alive.

Which would not be likely.

Zim held himself back for a few moments more, waiting for Dib to get the new shirt on. He planned an ambush but he wouldn't let himself catch his enemy THAT off-guard. If there was no challenge at all to this there would be no fun either.

Dib pulled his new shirt down around him and turned to sit again. Zim saw what was pictured on the t-shirt and almost laughed; it was a band. Then he pushed his claws under the grate, ripped the metal up, and dropped.

Dib reacted almost instantly to the sound of tearing metal but it still wasn't fast enough to evade Zim. The boy's big head clanged into the metal frame of the cot and Zim saw big tears welling up in his eyes. Dib dropped the bag of ice to claw at Zim's eyes; the Invader twisted his face away and Dib's fingers caught in his wig, tearing the hairy black mat right off. Zim almost sighed with relief at the feel of air, no matter how stale, caressing his antennae.

The alien caught his enemy's narrow hand in his own clawed one and squeezed; Dib let out a harsh gasp and his face twisted. There was a high keening coming from deep within the human's throat, and Zim realized that the hand he had trapped was also the one he had stomped on.

_Got you, Dib! This time I've got you!_

Zim pressed his advantage, squeezing the human's abused hand even tighter. Dib squirmed, actually removed his other hand from Zim's shoulder to pry at where his injured hand was trapped. He squirmed frantically. Zim's tongue lolled as his grinned, watching the human with an almost clinical interest. _And here the specimen is in pain… observe this being's reactions to confrontation, how he tries to evade attack…_

Zim pushed the human back further towards the wall, using the force on Dib's hand as a prod. Dib was now trying frantically to pry Zim's fingers off him, and the Invader let his own hand loosen just slightly, only applying enough force to keep a sharp edge of pain biting at his enemy's hand. Dib stopped quickly enough once he realized his bones weren't in danger of being ground to power, and watched Zim through narrow, slightly crazed eyes. The human would listen to Zim this time. That was something.

Zim licked his lips and grinned even wider. He felt so powerful…! The taste of his own blood in his mouth had been blotted out by Dib's. "You see, human," Zim whispered. "I warned you, I _warned_ you what would happen if you challenged me!"

"Screw you, Zim!" Dib shot back. "You still haven't beaten me! You'll _never_ beat me!" He was so sincere that Zim almost laughed. _What have I done to you here, then?_

"Oh you really think so?" Zim sneered back instead. "Well, dirt monkey, I really don't see how you've won this fight here! Face it, stinkbeast, there's no way a little smeet like you can overcome the _might_ of Zim!"

Dib slid to sit on the floor. It was as though all his bones had suddenly dissolved. Zim sank with him, increasing pressure on the human's hand as he did so. He could feel Dib's bones creaking; the human sucked in a little gasp and froze, body straining with tension. He did not look comfortable. All for the good, Zim supposed.

"Do you really think so, Zim?" the boy demanded in a low voice. Zim's antennae perked at the change in tone. "You're always so overconfident! You underestimate me all the time, space boy! If you're so smart and superior how come earth isn't enslaved right now, huh?!" Dib's voice almost crackled with rage. Zim watched, entranced, as his rival's face transformed. "I'll make you regret everything you've ever done to me!" Dib continued. "You don't know anything! I'll keep earth safe forever!"

Zim laughed, low and grating. "You can just keep thinking that, human! Maybe if you do, you inferior piece of moose, you'll eventually find some way not to humiliate yourself in front of me-"

Dib jackknifed his torso to the right, whipped the bag of ice up off the floor, and caught one edge of the plastic in his teeth. Zim had already started to recoil but the thin plastic tore instantly, spilling ice and filthy, freezing _water_ everywhere.

Spider legs erupted from Zim's pak to propel him across the room. Dib rolled to crouch on the linoleum, grabbing madly at the ice cubes that slithered through his fingers.

Zim spared a moment to be amazed that the nurse hadn't yet returned, and then he lunged.

Dib just managed to get his fingers around a pathetically small chip of ice before he looked up to see Zim bearing down on him. For a moment the human froze in the face of his enraged enemy, then Dib raced almost into Zim's arms. The alien saw one spider leg tear through the thin cotton and carve a neat gash down Dib's back, and then the boy was hanging on hard to the front of Zim's coat, crushing the ice cube into his skin. The water from it incinerated Zim's nerve endings instantly, and the Invader screeched like a cat, clawing at the frantic human to get him off.

In the chaos Zim's spider legs folded themselves down into the pak to allow for greater maneuverability on his part; the metal appendages had been suspending them both about two feet off the floor and now they fell with a thud. Dib landed on top. The human had height and weight on his side and instantly Dib crammed the cube down the front of Zim's shirt, then contorted his hands into claws and tore again at his enemy's eyes and antennae. Zim folded his antennae down close to the slick green skin on his scalp and ripped his claws brutally up Dib's belly. The human yelped and went limp and stunned for a moment, Zim clawing wildly at his chest.

Dib had fisted his hands tenaciously into the front of Zim's shirt now- the tough fabric of the collar cut into Zim's neck and was almost strangling him. "Let GO-" Zim managed to bellow, slapping Dib hard across one pale cheek. The boy's head snapped back and his hands loosened slightly, and Zim took the opportunity to tear himself free. Then he bolted, forgetting his wig, shoving out the door, and racing pass the nurse, who was just now setting down the phone.

Dib shot after him. The human was wearing his trench coat again. _It was amazing what powers a surge of adrenaline could grant to the normally frail human body,_ Zim thought distractedly. _When they're injured and chasing their worst enemy they still take time to get dressed. So… WEIRD._. He burst through the skool doors and sprinted towards his house. Dib was hard on his heels.

Zim fell into a steady rhythm, running almost as if her were hypnotized. The burns on his face throbbed with every step he took. The streets were actually beginning to crowd now, with the advent of evening, and it slowed both him and Dib down. People yelled at them as they flashed by; Zim saw them only as frame after frame of open mouths. His wig had been left in the recovery room. Zim wished there had been time to pick it up.

Dib was slowly losing ground; Zim could tell from the sound of his footsteps and leather creaking. His antennae were perfectly tuned to every sound the boy made now; he was the only enemy worthy of ZIM'S concentration so Zim had learned his signature noises by heart. The human had taken a much more severe beating than his rival, and the breakneck pace Zim had set was taking it's toll. Now Dib was falling back.

Zim abruptly turned left to scamper across the street. Car horns roared at him and he dodged several hurtling metal constructs before reaching the other side; a rush of air from a passing semi hurled him the last few feet. Zim let himself crash down on the pavement; pedestrians stepped over him without interest. Somebody dropped a coin on his head and it slithered down the back of his shirt, leaving a trail of cold skin.

Slowly, Zim hauled his arms under him and stood up, letting out a hiss as air brushed across the burns on his face. There were more burns too, under the slick fabric of his uniform where Dib had dumped the ice cube.

Zim growled under his breath and turned to stare back across the street. Dib was hardly more then a silhouette now- a skinny black scarecrow boy disappearing around a street corner. _Looks like he's had enough today. He'll be easy to catch…_

Zim took a slow step after his enemy-

-and stopped.

_You're a worthy enemy, Dib._

END CHAPTER 3

_The subtitle for this chapter should probably be "Action at Last"._

Well… this update came in record time, for me at least. I hope you enjoyed it… this chapter came out fast. I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed, or just read. And I'm very happy to be put on anyone's favorite list. Not to mention any names. ;)

Also I'd like to thank my beta reader and the people who invented spellcheck, without which Dib might occasionally have worn a "trench cat" in the course of this chapter.

Finished May 19, 2004


	5. Interlude

Dib stumbled exhausted down the sidewalk. He felt so tired… _I could die right here on the street,_ the boy thought, _and wake up tomorrow and feel better._ Every part of his body throbbed with pain, and Dib could feel his muscles drawing tight like wire as he walked. His vision was furry without his glasses; when people came close to him they turned into shifty tan blobs.

The gouge on his shoulder dribbled blood with every step. Dib could feel warm liquid squishing between his back and the smooth leather of the trench coat. That added an element of nausea to his agony; it felt like he had some giant slug creature trapped down the back of his shirt. _I hope that Zim keeps those leg things clean,_ Dib thought angrily. _If I'm infected with some weird alien spore from them then I'll kill him…_

Dib rubbed his eyes and paused to squint at the sky. It was early evening now; the clouds were painted with a creamy gold. Even the skyscrapers were beautiful in this light; the setting sun turned them into pillars of smoldering orange. More time had passed then he realized. _Yeah, time sure flies when you're getting the snot beaten out of you by people who owe you their lives,_ Dib thought. The observation amused him and he laughed a little. People passing him on the sidewalk gave him funny sidelong glances. Dib ignored them all.

It was stupid to attack Zim at school- Dib could admit that now. Other people got caught up in the fighting and keeping them from getting hurt distracted Dib from keeping himself from getting hurt. The boy thought with a shudder of the school day five years ago when Zim had gone into a mad organ-stealing frenzy and had taken Dib's trachea. Dib hadn't been able to protect himself because he was so trying to keep the other skoolchildren out of the fight. The paranormalist absently brushed at his throat at the memory. He still remembered the hollow, echoey feeling the absence of that organ had left…

He walked past the Hi Skool now. From the outside the building looked totally innocent, or as innocent as any building that had once been a prison could look, but Dib tensed instinctively at the sight of it. He had experienced too much pain in the building over the years to ever really feel at ease there.

Dib caught himself suddenly as he reached the fork in the road. If he turned left it was only a few minutes walk to his house, but he couldn't leave yet.

He had just remembered that he wasn't carrying his laptop.

The backpack didn't matter all that much. There was nothing in there that wouldn't be easy to replace. But the laptop was _filled_ with sensitive, carefully gathered information. He needed it back.

Dib cursed under his breath, turning to stomp angrily across the smooth lawn in front of the Skool. How could he have forgotten his stuff for so long? The broken glasses weren't really a problem (Dib had plenty of spares), but the computer would be vital for finding out what Zim was up to. The other students were nowhere near smart enough to get past his encryption, but if they stole it… Dib would just have to steal it back. He had so much information on the tiny machine that he couldn't afford to lose it.

Dib kicked himself inwardly as he walked up the wide steps. _Serves me right for bringing it to school. You always knew it was a risk, Dib…_

The boy paused at the door as the building's shadow fell over him. It blocked the sun and caused a sudden chill to run down Dib's spine; his hand wavered as he reached for the door.

Dib firmed his face. It was stupid to be scared to go in the building; he'd faced bigger, badder things over the years, right? _You can tell yourself that,_ he thought, _But it still seems really… counterproductive to go back in there just AFTER getting out._

_Go in and just get it over with._

Dib pulled at the door and then thumped his palm against the window set into it in frustration. _Locked._ "Oh, come on!" he yelped angrily, smacking the thick glass again. This just made an already terrible day worse. What would he _do_ all weekend, without his stuff to work on?!

_There HAS to be somebody in there. A custodian or something._ Dib began to beat on the door, hoping to attract a teacher who was working late or a janitor or _someone._

There was no response. Dib held back a scream of frustration. Couldn't _something_ be on his side, just once? _Just one crumb. One stroke of good luck, one thing to show that the universe isn't completely against me. It's all I ask._

There was no help for it. The Skool was obviously deserted. If he wanted his stuff he would have to break in. Dib felt a twinge of conscience at the thought; even if it was just to retrieve his stuff it didn't feel good to break into the Skool, especially since he would probably have to break a window or something.

_Oh well. I guess since the fate of the WORLD depends on it I can probably forgive myself._

Dib gave one last frustrated blow to the pane of the door, and then turned around and began to slouch back down the stairs. When the door swung open suddenly he almost jumped out of his skin.

The pale boy turned warily around to regard the open door. _What's up with this?_ A slow, cool draught of air blew from the dimly-lit common area and Dib edged slowly backwards until he stood in the sun. _Okay, this is weird._ Dib could admit to himself that some of the paranormal things he latched onto were just plain silly but this was climbing closer to downright creepy. Besides, he didn't want to walk into a trap.

_Okay… Zim's gone. You saw him leave; no way he's here waiting for you. Go and check it out._

Dib gained a little bit of nerve as nothing else moved, and stepped slowly to stare into the school. It was odd to see the building without any of the other kids that usually swarmed there. _Looks a little better this way too. Hehe._ His own weak joke added to his resolve and Dib moved up to stare curiously around the wide room, wondering who had let him in.

"You gonna come in or what, sonny boy?"

Dib squawked and hurled himself to the edge of the stairs. The smooth leather of his trench coat chafed at the open wound on his shoulder, causing black stars of agony to burst in front of his eyes. Relocated to the top of the stairs, Dib crouched and panted, clamping one hand to his chest.

It was only a janitor. It dawned on him slowly- only a janitor. Dib's nerves had been strung altogether too tight today.

The old man was still standing there, shuffling his feet awkwardly and squinting in the sudden light. "You all right there, sonny? Look like sumthin' gave you a turn, here."

Dib swallowed and managed a reply. "Um, yeah. I'm okay, thanks."

"Alrighty then." The old man turned around and made as if to go back into the skool. Dib leaped after him, ignoring the painful protest his shoulder gave.

"Hey, wait!"

The janitor spun to regard Dib irritably. The lower part of his face was covered with a scraggly grey beard that wagged in time to the workings of his jaw. His eyes were dark pits behind the thick lenses of his glasses. "What now? I got work to do, boy, so spit it out."

Dib gathered himself. "Sorry. It's just, um, I need to get in. I left some stuff here. It's really important that I get it back." He lost it for a moment. "The fate of the WORLD may be at stake!" The boy thrust his fist into the air, and then dropped it and smiled weakly as he realized the man was looking at him oddly. "So, could you let me in, please?"

"…Whatever, sonny. Where'd you leave it?"

"I'm not sure. I think I know where it should be, so if you can let me look then it shouldn't take too long to find." Dib kicked himself for letting his previous outburst seep through. _I think I should've learned to keep QUIET by now… oh well. Please tell me he'll let me in…_

The janitor sighed. "Fine, sonny, but find it quick. I still have work to do."

Dib didn't point out that he had said that already.

The boy retraced his way easily to where the fight had taken place. It wasn't an event he would forget quickly. Once he was there he turned around slowly, staring at the empty halls. He couldn't get used to the absence of people; as much as he loathed his classmates he felt even more uncomfortable without them here. It was… exposed. Vulnerable.

"Hurry it up, boy!"

Right, right, whatever. Now where would that pack be…? Dib walked down the hall to inspect the little alcoves that sheltered the doors to get into the classrooms. The bag could have gotten shoved back into one of them… he would just have to hope it hadn't gotten into one of the classrooms somehow. There was no way janitor-man would let him in there.

Dib craned to stare through the slot windows in the doors anyway. Only desks and the occasional computer.

_Oh come on,_ Dib thought desperately, pacing back down the hall. The janitor's head swiveled slowly to follow his movement. Were all senior school staff members this creepy? The guy was starting to remind him of Ms. Bitters, except he skittered like a cockroach instead of slithering. Dib paced by him again and tried not to look.

A slight bulge in a shadow caught his eye and Dib snapped to the left. He was looking down the hallway into the boy's bathroom, and in the corner where it turned there was a shapeless black lump.

"My backpack!" Dib yelped joyfully, swooping down upon it. On shoulder strap was torn to shreds but other then that it seemed to be undamaged.

The boy picked it up and swung the bag over his shoulder, doing his best to ignore the throb of pain that burst through his shoulder. It was an immense relief to have his stuff back safe with him... but… Dib frowned… what was this? It seemed lighter then it should be…

Oblivious to the janitor's soft snarl of displeasure, Dib crouched on the floor and unzipped his bag. He peered into the folds of cloth, running through what he had put in there- here's the book, the bag, some lint, a gum wrapper, but where's the computer oh no oh no-

Dib's fingers tightened on the canvas. He breathed faster and faster and his head began to pound with rage. Shit shit shit. Someone had stolen his computer.

Dib looked up. He spoke in a high, fast voice: "Mister, look, someone's taken some of my stuff-"

Janitor-man interrupted him. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, sonny, but there's not much anyone can do for that. Now I need to get back to cleaning up the school so you should just get along home now."

Dib stared at him hopelessly.

"Well, go on now!"

The boy dragged himself to his feet. _What's the use arguing with him anyway?_ "Thanks," he mumbled, slinging the bag back over his shoulder. This time when it hurt his knees buckled a little. The janitor accompanied him to the end of the hallway, and Dib pushed open the door and stumbled down the stairs to the sidewalk. _And I thought it was going so well…_ Just more evidence that the universe was against him.

The sun was had set by now, and the minute points of light that were the stars in the city gleamed through the smog. Dib didn't look up as he turned onto his street. The gash in his shoulder twinged with every move he made.

He relaxed slightly once he was inside the house, dropping his bag carelessly by the door and pulling off his heavy black boots. It seemed like ten pounds were removed from his footsteps once they were gone. Dib stretched carefully, popping his neck. He discovered that now, when he wasn't being chased or threatened, he had room to be _angry_.

He was fighting to save the human race. He had been caught in a quiet, ugly little war for _years_ and it didn't look like it was going to end any time soon. He gave everything for the people around him, always hoping that just once, someone would look back at him with understanding, would congratulate him and sympathize with the sacrifices he made. Who knew how many times the planet would have fallen without his defense? Dib gave so much of himself to the world and there was nothing that made it worth it. He did his best to give people chances but sometimes he just couldn't handle their contempt anymore.

The boy's muscles tensed and then went slack again as Dib forced himself to calm. His face felt hot and Dib was sure that if he looked in a mirror he would be flushed with rage.

_Come on,_ he thought. _It's stupid to get so worked up over this._ Wasn't it enough to know that he, Dib, was the sole being standing between Earth and DESTRUCTION?!

_Maybe it's not anymore. It would be nice… to have somebody to listen to me._

Zim's attacks during the fight had hurt on more than a physical level, Dib had to admit. The alien had never participated in the beatings the other Skool children had inflicted upon Dib before; the boy had some idea that Zim considered it beneath him. _Maybe I shouldn't have attacked him,_ Dib thought, and banished the idea instantly. You couldn't show fear with Zim or he would pursue it and use it to his advantage. Bad enough that he had backed down the other night.

Dib dragged himself up the stairs. His legs felt like they were filled with lead, and the crusted edges of his shirt tugged painfully at his wound. And his face was still a little bloody from his nose and lip. No wonder people had given him funny looks as he walked home.

Gaz's door was closed (it had a look that was somehow menacing) but Dib tiptoed by anyway. An angry sister was the last thing he needed right now…

Dib breathed again when he made it into his own room. _Safe!_ The boy kicked his door shut and began to shuck the hot leather trench coat, and then hissed under his breath as it pulled at the cut on his shoulder. Then he bit his lip and pulled the coat off anyway. The gash started to bleed sluggishly again.

Dib laughed a little at his own ridiculous machismo, and then turned the coat to inspect the damage. Not too bad: it was slick with blood all down the back but probably not unsalvageable. At least something today had gone right, sort of: Dib loved his coat. The boy turned it inside-out and spread it almost tenderly over the back of his computer chair. Maybe the blood would be easier to get out if he let it dry.

Then Dib knelt by his bed and pulled a sturdy plastic tub out from underneath it. He popped off the lid and dug through the contents for a few moments until he surfaced with a bandage, medical tape, and a bottle of prescription-strength painkillers. Then he tried to pull off the t-shirt.

"Shit!" Dib yelped. His own volume surprised him for a moment and he blinked. Then he held his breathe carefully, listening for sounds from his sister. Being doomed was one more thing he didn't need.

There was no way to get the shirt off without enduring extreme pain- the edges of the tear Zim had torn with his spider legs had unraveled and threads had wormed their ways into the gash, and were now stuck in the clotted blood.

Dib gasped and took some shuddery little breaths as he lowered the cotton down to his back again. The paper-thin cloth was soaked instantly with his cold sweat.

Water would probably loosed the threads and wash out the blood. Dib wadded a bunch of fresh clothes together with his medical supplies and made his way to the bathroom.

There, Dib set his stuff on the closed toilet seat, then opened the bottle of painkillers with a practiced twist and swallowed two of the pills dry. He put the cap back on and shook the bottle gently, grimacing at the sound of the rattle. This bottle was almost gone and refills were a pain to get.

If things went on like today, he would be needing many more of them.

Dib turned on the sink's faucet and cupped his hand under it to gulp several mouthfuls of frigid water. The liquid was so cold it burned as it trickled down his throat. It seemed to clear his head a little too. Dib swiped his hand across his mouth and then pushed his hair back. Then he pressed his chilled fingers against his closed eyes- the cold soaked through his lids to the organs underneath. His eyes felt hard and hot, and as the boy stood there he began to feel calmer.

Dib leaned over to pull off his pants and underwear. He kept the t-shirt on. The porcelain tub was cool under his feet and the boy flinched a little before turning on the water.

Dib kept it tepid at first, turning his face towards the jet. The water pushed soothing fingers through his sweaty hair. Dib turned the pressure down a bit, then turned his back to let the gentle stream of water beat just above the cut. He could feel the clotted pieces of blood coming loose to fall down the drain, and after a few minutes Dib dared to slide the sodden shirt off and drop it with a splat.

Eventually he turned off the water and grabbed a towel, rubbing it roughly over his hair so it spiked in every direction then drying the rest of his body.

Dib found the bandage in his clean-clothes-mass-thing, and took a moment to hope that Zim kept his spider legs clean before he pressed the bandage onto the wound. Then Dib craned about clumsily to press tape around the edges to help keep it down. He cursed his enemy softly for putting the wound in such an awkward position.

Pulling on the clean clothes was sheer luxury. Dib sighed quietly at the soothing touch of clean cotton, then bundled up the dirty clothes to put in the wash. He pitched the t-shirt into the garbage without a second glance.

After taking care of his laundry, Dib went back to his room and flopped carelessly across the bed. The painkillers had taken full affect by now, and he felt disconnected and unnaturally calm. Around him the room seemed to roll, like a ship; Dib frowned at the effect and closed his eyes but that only made his nausea worse. His limbs twitched slightly, and Dib bit his tongue hard.

The vomit bubbled up suddenly in his throat, a thin trickle of the vicious stuff escaping his mouth to run down his chin. Dib clapped a narrow palm across his mouth and swallowed once, and then again, forcing the bile back down to his empty stomach. Dib remembered vaguely that you were supposed to take the painkillers with food. He hadn't eaten since breakfast.

The boy heaved himself to his feet. _Food and then I think tonight is done._ The fridge was almost empty when he checked, but there was a small carton of chocolate milk. Dib grabbed it and gulped it down to banish the sour taste in his mouth, then checked the pantry.

"Thank God," Dib whispered hoarsely at the sight of several cans of soup. He snatched a can of chicken noodle, dumped it into a bowl, and put that in the microwave.

Tendrils of steam wafted gently from it when Dib took it out. The hot broth burned Dib's hands through the bowl, and he dashed over to the table to set it down.

Gaz padded downstairs, lured by the smell of food. When she saw it wasn't pizza she went to the phone and dialed Bloaty's, ordering quietly. Then she came and sat down at the table across from her brother. Dib slurped at his soup, watching her narrowly.

"I saw what happened to you today," she said.

Dib took another spoonful of soup before replying. "Really. Well, thanks for the help."

Gaz snorted softly. "It's not like they killed you."

Dib looked up from his soup and glared at her. "Yeah? Well, it feels like they cracked a few ribs at least."

She sneered at him. "Oh, right, Dib. Suck it up."

He dropped his spoon with a clink and glared at her again. The anger in his eyes covered a little spark of hurt. "I've fought for earth for years and nobody appreciates that! When the planet is overrun with _alien invaders_ and the human race has been exterminated, maybe then they'll think of all those times they ignored me and REGRET IT!"

Gaz's face was unreadable. Dib sullenly stirred the broth with his spoon, then lifted his bowl and drank what was left of the soup. Then he walked to the stairs and turned once more to regard his sister.

"Goodnight, Gaz."

She spoke. "If you aren't down here when the pizza comes, I'll eat it all."

It was a kind of peace offering, at least.

His room was dim and warm, and there Dib pulled out a spare pair of glasses and switched on his computer. When he opened a window to read, the dense black text instantly made his eyes water and Dib gave working any more tonight up as a lost cause.

He went to bed instead, and to his surprise he went to sleep easily.

END CHAPTER 4

_Wow… that was a long wait for a chapter in which nothing much happened, yes? I hope you enjoyed it anyway. The next one should have more action, or at least more interesting things going on. Thanks and loves to everyone who reviewed! You all sustain me._

During… um… the last two weeks of this month I will be gone. I'm attending an art camp in Sitka and I probably won't have computer access, although I could be wrong. Hopefully I will be able to update before then. Chapter finished June 10, 2004.


	6. To Devour

Dib dreamed on a level he was hardly aware of; he slept so deeply that his dream became like life to him.

When he woke he was curled in a fetal position on his bed.  It was not a natural awakening; something had disturbed his slumber and when he opened his eyes he knew what it was.

Zim crouched there, out of his disguise, so close to Dib's face that they shared their breaths.  The puffs of Dib's exhalations became Zim's inhalations and vice versa; the shimmering red globes of Zim's eyes were all Dib could see.  The human gasped lightly, and withdrew on reflex.  He expected Zim to shake him or slap him or do something but all the alien did was to sit back on his heels, looking annoyed.

"What do you want?" Dib said tensely.  The route Zim had taken to get into his room was obvious: the window was wide open.  A light breeze shifted Dib's posters and twisted tiny dust devils up from the floor.  Zim quirked one eye at him and reached out to catch Dib's hand.

Dib tensed at the contact- some part of him remembered a grinding pain being bestowed upon him in the same place, by the same person- but all Zim did was give him a look of mild irritation.  "Come on, human!" Zim barked, then he hopped off the bed, pulling Dib's arm with him, and the human was mildly amused to see that the top of the mattress actually cleared Zim's antennae.  He had almost forgotten that his enemy had once been that short…

Dib rolled over now, to see Zim better.  "What?" he asked, a little confused.  He didn't want to go anywhere Zim wanted to take him.  The little alien glowered at Dib and tugged wordlessly at the human's hand, grumbling with irritation.

Dib stood up at last and he noticed that he towered over his rival now.  Zim barely came up to his knees and had to stand on tiptoes to keep hold of his hand.  Dib found himself smiling a little at the picture the alien made: he looked like a pouty little kid.  He had grown up; Zim hadn't.

Zim solved the height problem by flipping his tiny body up on his spider legs; now he was taller then Dib by at least a head and the human had to reach up to keep hold of his hand.  Dib tugged at where they were clasped together but Zim didn't seem inclined to let go so the human went with it.  Then the alien began to skitter towards Dib's open window.  "Come on!" he snapped again when Dib hesitated, squinting in the warm red light.

Again, Dib went with it, scrambling out after the alien.  Zim dropped like a cat into the bushes below Dib's window and looked up, waiting for the human to follow him.  Dib dropped with a grace that surprised him; he made only a little more noise then Zim.

The alien scampered off, pausing often to make sure that Dib was following him.  At the end of Dib's street Zim caught his hand again and they set off into the city.

It was so _quiet_ there, and Dib looked about, awed by the sudden majesty the buildings possessed.  The city had more kinship to a jungle then it had to a collection of buildings made by mankind now. The skyscrapers were like thick golden tree trunks; the branching alleys were like deep forest grottos; Dib could see shadows shifting in the gutters and windows and was sure there were animals slipping through there.  When he looked up the dark sky was filled with deep red eyes.

Zim pulled at him again and Dib followed, stepping quickly to keep up with the spider legs.  Wherever Zim was taking him they weren't there yet.  The streets were eerily empty; only the two enemies were out walking.  The quiet was almost unnatural.

Dib craned over his shoulder to stare at the Elementary Skool; Zim dragged at his hand again.  "Come _on_, Dibstink!"  It was the first time the alien had said his name, and Dib turned to stare at him.  Zim glared back irritably.  "You don't want to _miss_ them, do you?"

"Uh," Dib started, and then he was almost hauled off his feet by Zim starting up again.  The boy stumbled for a moment and then jogged to catch up.  He felt almost drunk, incredibly detached to the fact that Zim could be leading him away to die.  He didn't ask any questions.

They were at the Hi Skool now, heading towards the little strip of woods that was sandwiched between the building and the factories.  When they entered it fallen leaves crunched and swept about Dib's feet, whispering hoarsely.  They kept walking into it and didn't come out to the sullen steel faces of the factories.  Zim was latching the barbed ends of his spider legs into the tree trunks now and swinging quickly along; Dib was actually lifted off his feet once or twice.  It reminded him of older days, being swung between his laughing mother and father above puddles, shrieking with the brief joy of unfettered flight.

They were slowing now.  Zim withdrew the legs and fell to cling for a moment to Dib's shoulders before dropping to the ground.  Dib tromped through deep moss. The imprints that his feet left sprung back almost instantly.

When they came to a clearing he looked up.

It was the biggest patch of sky he had seen yet; and Dib stared hypnotized, caught in regarding it.  The matte black was filled with eyes; eyes like Zim's, glittering moist garnets gazing back down at him, pinning him with their stares.  Almost unconsciously Dib stretched his arms up, like a child would to an adult, asking to be picked up.

Zim stood at the edge of the clearing under the golden leaves of the golden trees and watched him, unreadable.

Eventually he approached the human, looking up at his enraptured face.  As he approached Dib shrank, shorter and slighter and smaller until he was eleven again, with big nervous eyes and ragged black hair, looking into heaven. When Zim stood behind him the alien was tall, almost two feet higher then the little boy.

Zim picked him up easily by his upper arms, and Dib's eyes snapped onto him, pupils dilating.  His weight was so small.  He curled like a cat in Zim's claws, breathing faster but not struggling.  Zim's antennae pricked forward, brushing lightly over Dib's face; they were soft and felt almost velvety.  The alien brought them close, too close, they were sharing each other's breaths again; the skin on their foreheads bumped.  Dib started to struggle, squirming in Zim's iron grip.  "Zim!  What are you doing?!  Let go, let go-"

Zim laughed quietly.  "We're here," was all he said.  Then he shifted his grip, holding harder to Dib's arms.  The little boy squeaked and squirmed, all of the emotions that the walk through the city had kept at bay crashing down on him.  When he had reestablished his grip he hauled Dib close to his face again.  "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he breathed.  Then he hurled Dib into the sky.

Dib screamed, once, twice, loud and hard and tearing, cartwheeling upwards.  Troposphere, stratosphere, mesosphere, ionosphere, all flashing by like floors on an elevator, until you're at the top _ding!_ and then-

The darkness swallowed him.

Far below, Zim stood tall and angry.  The gilded trees shuffled closer around him, thick roots stirring through the soil, closing off the sky from view; the eyes blinked out now, one by one.  The alien watched, his face like cold iron.  "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he muttered.  "The chance to fly free…"

Dib woke up cleanly, and truly this time, as though the border between his dreaming and his waking had been cut by a very sharp knife.  He lay on his side, sweating gently and forgetting the dream as it played through his waking mind.  His window was closed; no wonder it was hot.  The boy rolled from under his covers to pull up the blinds and drag the window open.  It scraped up in the frame to let in cool morning air and lukewarm sunlight.  It was seven o'clock.

Dib felt very clear; his mind was a still pool, utterly undisturbed by moving creatures or thrown stones.  He went to his computer and turned it on.  There he activated the homing beacon that he had hidden in the delicate inner workings of his laptop; when a response came he overlaid a map of the city upon that.

There was a premonition upon him; a sense of knowing the event before it played out.  It didn't surprise him at all to see that his computer was at Zim's house.

END CHAPTER 5

_Thus the true purpose behind the construction of this series is revealed: it's driven by my desire to construct wild imagery. Love it, I say!_

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Kudos to all of you for keeping me at this. I should probably stick a disclaimer in here because I've forgotten to do one for all the other chapters: Invader Zim and the characters and situations presented within belong to Nickelodeon, Jhonen Vasquez, and Viacom (I think). I write this only to offer tribute to the series and Mr. Vasquez's genius. I'm not making any money either so please don't sue me.

Chapter finished June 13, 2004.


	7. I See You

The base was quiet for once.

Zim reclined lazily in the curved seat at the heart of the labs, munching an Irken sandwich. He had sent GIR out with money for tacos and instructions to come back that afternoon; he wanted to peruse Dib's files at his leisure, with no distractions from his insane minion.

Dib's computer had a thick grey cable plugged into one of the interface ports, and this cord wormed its way into a plug at the bottom of a larger view screen. The laptop's screen was flipped up anyway; Zim rather enjoyed watching it flicker as file after file was cut cleanly out and poured into his own databanks. It was watching all of Dib's hard work be sliced away, piece after piece, and not a THING the human could do about it…! Pure pleasure.

The screen gave one more jerky shimmer, then snapped to black. The house computer spoke. "Hey, master, that was everything. What do you want to do with the little guy now?"

Zim crammed the crust of the sandwich into his mouth and sat forward, antennae flicking up attentively. "Eh? Oh, I don't know…" He flopped his hand back and forth aimlessly, and then slammed the screen of the computer down. "You're sure you got everything?"

"Right down to the Operating System," it replied. "You want I should liquefy the circuits?" A chute opened up at Zim's elbow. He picked up the computer, held it over the dark orifice for a moment, and then with an internal shrug he set it aside. Maybe he would give it back to Dib for the human to play with later. It might be funny to watch him pitch a fit.

"I'll save it for now," he said. "Now I wish to see what's on here… go and.. uhh.. do not watch Zim! You can tell me when Dib gets here. Yeah."

"Fine, fine," the house computer grumbled back. "I did all the work and don't even get to see? Sheeeesh…"

The alien pulled the cable from the ports and wound it neatly. He had to do something to let off the manic glee he felt building up; Zim knew that if he didn't move to exorcise his energy he would find himself bursting into activity that would throw off his careful calculations. This plan of his, such a plan it was too… had to be taken carefully, delicately, step by step. And Dib needed to be out of the way.

Zim tapped at touch-sensitive screens now, flipping through piece after piece of the puzzle that was Dib. At first the files weren't terribly exciting, just photos of him doing everything- walking GIR, watching TV, walking to skool, plotting. The pictures were only of him in his disguise, of course. If Dib had gotten any solid evidence Zim would probably have been on an autopsy table a long time ago. The alien didn't doubt his rival's intense desire to see Zim brought down.

Here, now, was more interesting territory- file after file of notes, jumbled and incomplete but still beginning to assemble a foundation of accurate information. Dib truly was exceptional, for a human- with few resources and no support from the people around him he had managed to assemble a good deal of information about Zim. Here there was a sketchy map of Zim's base, possible infiltration routes and weaknesses. There, a grid chart of the front yard with the firing range of each gnome drawn in red. Another file opened to reveal a computer-done drawing of GIR, complete with speculation on how the crazy little robot worked. Zim conceded to himself that he had never been able to work that out either, and grinned as he noted that the Dib was as puzzled as he was.

Zim closed those windows and opened a folder at random. This was filled with smaller files; Zim scrolled idly to the bottom and double-clicked to open the last and smallest one. It was almost an empty page; there was only a sentence at the top. Dib must have been interrupted before managing to write more.

_I know that Zim's plotting something awful, and I'm going to stop him like I always--_

And that was all.

Zim tipped his head a little, quizzical, then he grinned hugely. It was the beginning of a journal entry! The Dib human was actually keeping a journal on his laptop! It was unbelievably stupid of the little worm. Now here were pages and pages of his most personal musings, all at the fingertips of ZIM!

The alien clicked out of that file, giggling to himself. He scrolled up to the top file and opened that one. This was a long entry, the longest of all of them. Zim sneered at its size. _You TALK too much, human! Too much for your own good!_

The page opened right into Dib's hysterical raving.

_This is the beginning of a new year I guess. Three in the morning on the first of January. There's nothing special going on, of course. Zim's base is quiet. I can see the TV flickering through his window; it's probably that little robot GIR or whatever. I don't know why he keeps that thing around._

Is there a point to all this? I kind of have to wonder. Seems like when I was eleven chasing after Zim was still so important. But now I'm fifteen years old and shouldn't I have other things to be doing? I'd like to get past this someday. Maybe meet a nice girl. But while Zim is running free I can never rest! If there was anyone who meant anything to me he would only use them against me.

Christmas was a week ago. Nothing special happened. We didn't set up a tree or anything, and we didn't exchange presents. Except dad gave me an envelope with two hundred dollars in it and a free pass to a therapist, which is the same thing he gives me every year. I think Gaz got the same thing, minus therapist pass. Is there any change to this? I can't remember when he gave me anything but that. It's a new year, right? A new slate. But we never take that chance. We just walk the same old road.

I never make New Year's resolutions, but just this once I think I will. I'd like to move on a little this year, make real headway against Zim! The world can't stay against me forever, right? Someday people have to realize what he is, realize what I've been doing for all these years, and then they'll give me what I deserve!

This year, I'll beat Zim. I'll defeat him once and for all. I can feel it.

Zim's lips pulled back from his teeth in an ugly, offended snarl. He spoke to the text as if his rival was there to hear him. "Defeat ZIM?! You, stinky dirtchild, defeat ZIM?! Never!" He vaulted to his feet, pointed accusingly at the screen. "The day that you defeat ZIM will be the day that… eh… the sun goes cold in your sky! And then you'll be DEAD, so it won't matter anyway! Will it?! Will it?! Huh?!"

He picked up the computer again, held it thoughtfully in his claws. It was more tempting then ever to destroy it now, to maybe pulp a little of the Dib's arrogance. But Zim held it still, closer to his heart, pushing down the tidal waves of rage that rocked his form as best he could. Quelling anger was not a thing he was used to and the necessity of doing it tore at him.

A part of him hoped that Dib would show up soon, so he could vent this poison on _someone_.

The house AI made a noise like static, the computer equivalent of clearing its throat. Zim hardly looked up. "What, what?!" he demanded irritably. "I already _told_ you, you can't see the Dib's files!"

"It's not that," the machine snapped back, sounding put out. "The Dib human is up there. He's throwing rocks."

Zim smiled, Cheshire huge and dangerous. "Is he?" he murmured. "Take me to the house level!"

There he slid the monkey painting down to reveal the view screen that was concealed behind it. There were cameras planted in each of the gnome heads, and he ordered one of the robot sentinels to rotate to face the head of the walk. Dib was indeed standing there, dressed in his stealth suit and flipping a rock up and back into his hand again and again. The boy was flushed deep red with fury, peering at the gnomes as if he knew Zim was watching them. "Zim, you jerk!" he shouted. Dib's voice was still breaking and it cracked a little on the high note. "I want my computer back and I know you have it! And what are you working on anyway? C'mon, tell me!" He flung the rock neatly at Zim's window, and the last, flawless pane exploded into a shower of glass shards. The rock shot past Zim's head and hit the wall to fall with the others Dib had used.

Zim looked at the fractured window and hissed furiously. Then he ran over to it and poked his head out to shout at the human. "Stinky DIB! You dare throw ROCKS through the windows of ZIM?!" He shook a tiny fist at the boy. "Your cowardice knows no end! Zim tells NO ONE of his brilliant plots! NO ONE!"

He ducked down as another rock zinged by his head, grinning wickedly. Now if Dib played the way Zim wanted him too…

He could already hear Dib bolting across the lawn, the clanks as the gnomes moved into defense mode. Zim skittered into the kitchen and dove neatly into the garbage can as Dib plunged through the window. The human boy saw his rival disappear and promptly dove after him.

_Mistake number one._

The chute let out into a long hall, lined on both sides with bubbling tubes and blinking, softly glowing computer consoles. Zim rolled out and to the left, behind on row of tubes, and waited for only a second. Then Dib came tumbling out behind him, a little clumsier but still adept and agile for a human. He rolled neatly across the slick metal floor and hunched against the control banks, breathing hard, eyes flicking wildly, suddenly realizing exactly what he had gotten himself into. Zim could almost feel the push of air on his antennae as Dib inhaled and exhaled.

The boy apparently decided to go for stealth; he slipped behind the opposite row of tubes. The bubbling orange liquid distorted him horribly for a moment, and then his skinny form disappeared into the shadows behind him. The stealth suits looked stupid on him but they really worked well for concealment, Zim had to admit.

He cocked his head now, considering. Then he crawled to the end of the row, pausing to look and listen. Zim detected no aberrations in movement that would give the Dib away, but he waited for another moment anyway before crawling quickly and loudly out to get to the next hall. There he squirmed under a rolling lab table and molded himself into the darkness.

The seconds ticked by. Zim restrained himself from squirming and _listened_ instead, filtering out the extraneous humming of machinery.

His patience was rewarded when a foot set itself down carefully, right in front of his face. Zim actually stuffed his hand into his mouth to restrain manic laughter.

Dib was enthralled, had probably forgotten his rival entirely, caught up in regarding the marvelous technology that surrounded him. _Impressed yet, human?_ Zim thought, waiting even more. It was so hard to hold back…

Dib turned half around, pivoting his weight on one foot. He was off balance- the perfect moment.

Zim catapulted out from under the table, which tipped over with a crash, raining scalpels and probes across the floor. Dib was half turned and it saved him from taking the whole weight of Zim's assault, but the alien caught him hard in one shoulder and the human fell with a sharp yelp. They rolled together, Dib thrashing wildly, uncontrolled, Zim trying to lock his claws around the humans throat. He had just got a bit of a grip when Dib managed to bring a foot up and piston it into Zim just below his ribs. The smaller Irken flopped off, a little stunned, blood gilding his claws. There were angry red marks collaring Dib's neck; the boy sat up, touched one gingerly, looked at Zim with raw hate in his eyes.

Zim had rolled away and was standing now, breathing hard. There were little sucking twinges emanating from his chest, and he had to wonder if Dib hadn't done some damage with that last kick. If the boy had he would never know it.

Zim was standing now, cocky grin back in place, tossing a silvery cone-shaped something in his claws, as Dib had been tossing his rock. "You wanted to find out what I was working on?" He breathed. "C'mere, Dib…"

The human stood up, suddenly realizing exactly how much danger he was in. Then he bolted.

Dib pounded back into the hall of tubes, looking frantically for the exit; the chute was contracting rapidly, turning into a small dimple in the wall. Dib raced for it, got his head and shoulders through, managed to squirm the rest of the way in. He heard Zim howl angrily from outside and almost sighed with relief but he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. The chute was lit with small orange lights; he could faintly see rungs gleaming up into darkness. And emergency exit, he supposed, if something happened to debilitate the base…

Dib locked his sweaty hands around the thin metal and scampered up. Light flared underneath him; Zim had apparently got the computer to open the entryway. "I'm gonna _getcha_, DIB!" Zim roared after him, his high voice distorted horribly, winding around Dib like a nightmare, and the human had to fight off chills.

Dib scrambled up one more rung and hit his head so hard on something that small bright stars bloomed in front of his eyes. He could smell something piney now, and realized with almost tearful relief that he was at the house level. He shoved the lid of the garbage can open and hurled himself out.

Zim caught up with him two steps from the door, hurling his tiny weight between Dib's shoulders and bearing the larger human down. Dib sank his teeth into his lower lip and tasted metal. Spider legs whipped from Zim's pak and caged their struggle in; Dib squirmed in a silent frenzy of terror.

"You wanted to find out what I was working on?" Zim whispered hoarsely, practically into Dib's ear. "Here, I'll _show_ you."

He was holding something in his hand. The human craned his head around just in time to see Zim push something sharp into the flesh just below his elbow.

It hurt amazingly for about a second, sending shock waves of agony booming down Dib's nerves; then it went numb, so much more terrifying. Dib contorted, tearing at where the silver probe was drilling down into his yielding flesh. It was not pain now but _pressure_, like the feeling of wisdom teeth being removed. Blood slicked his fingers; he could SEE the damage but there was nothing to confirm it was really happening.

Zim withdrew his spider legs and backed off a bit to regard the squirming, mewling human who was tearing frantically at his own skin. The probe had worked perfectly. "Maybe I'll let you go now Dib," he said out loud. "You've been a pretty good test subject. Hey, are you listening to me?!"

The human was not. The skin where the device had drilled into him was patching now, stimulated by the Irken nanobots that the probe released to seal over and repair where it had been inserted. Dib was still digging at the skin, tearing wildly and with frantic abandon. His eyes were dilated hugely and Zim could smell consuming terror permeating the air around him.

The alien stepped forward, Dib glanced up wildly, and then he bolted for the door.

Zim let him go.

END OF CHAPTER 6

_Well, FINALLY, huh? Sorry about taking so long, I lost a little momentum on this. The end is nowhere near, though, so don't fret. SOMEDAY this'll get done. XD_

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter; thanks for taking the time to read. Should probably mention here that I'll be gone for two weeks starting now so no updates for a while… but you're used to that, right? ;P

Chapter finished July 29, 2004


	8. Self Betrayal

_Oh God. Oh God. Let this be a dream…_  
  
Dib stumbled on, limping and panting by families who still slept. Leftover adrenaline buzzed in his veins; he couldn't stop touching his arm, kneading it, wondering if the nightmare had really happened. At first the probe had left a tumor-like lump but now it was receding to follow the line of his forearm. The only evidence left of it's existence were the flecks of brownish–red caked under his nails from where he had torn at himself and the feeling of _pressure_ in that area, the feeling of violation as the malevolent little egg pushed it's way deeper and deeper inside him, spreading a stinking insidious web of Zim Zim Zim Zim ZIM, his property, his specimen, his test, his pet.

_This is the worst thing you've ever done to me, Zim…_  
  
It was true. The alien has hurt him before, tortured him, almost killed him, but he had never subverted Dib's body so completely against him. _I bet he's laughing over this right now… loving it…  
_  
Dib would go through life, through every fight with his rival now, wondering if _this_ was the moment Zim's trap would spring, or if he would wait, prolonging the agony, until the next day at skool while Dib was in the gym showers, or demonstrating a math problem in front of class…  
  
Or maybe even longer, until one day Dib makes a wrong move or causes just a little too much trouble and ends up dead, going out quietly over his English homework one night with only a sigh and a jagged pain behind his eyes to mark his exit.  
  
Or worse, family night, at Bloaty's maybe, when Dib comes back from the restroom and starts to slide into the padded booth where he's sitting next to his sister and just collapses, out of the blue, muscles twanging then going slack, not breathing, paramedics called but no help from them. Dib dies ignobly on dirty red tiles, people crowding like vultures around him, oh _so_ tragic. And with no explanation- the nanobots released from the pulsing, knowing _thing_ in his arm breaking down into trace metals they were born from.  
  
"No…" Dib breathed raggedly. He staggered to lean against a neat picket fence and press a hand against his forehead. His mind spun and crippled itself with desperate terror, agony coalescing to a point inside his skull. _I can't let Zim get to me like this_. Dib tried to wrestle his panic under control. _Every time I lose it, he wins a little more. Control, Dib, CONTROL!_ The boy gulped air and slid to his knees, pressing both hands against his temples, heart jerking around in his chest as though it were being pulled on a string. _Control, Dib. Control it! YOU CAN CONTROL IT!_ It was his creed, his surviving philosophy. _I, Dib can change myself and I, Dib, can change the world. Zim won't beat me with this!  
_  
He lurched to his feet, clutching his arm, chafing it until it went white with pressure. Dib's shoulder slammed into the fence and he bent, snarling like a dog. Then he took a step. Muscles in his legs seized and stretched. Nothing struck him down. He paused to fight down the nausea that roiled in him. Took another step, another, again and again, swaying like a broken pendulum. Each step felt like it might be his last. But in commanding himself over Zim, he had won.  
  
The walk home was interminable. The shifting feeling in his arm had stopped, and even as he squeezed harder and harder Dib knew it was lost. _Stupid thing's got settled in_, he thought bitterly. _I have to get it out. There's no other way. I can't walk around with an alien probe- especially not one from Zim!- imbedded in my arm.  
_  
He fell through the door to his house, breathed a moment then tensed again. _No! I can't let my guard down here. What if that thing forces me to hurt myself? Or Dad or Gaz?_ He reached up to unclip buckles and slide zippers down. The boy left his stealth suit a rumpled shadow in the entryway and walked to the lab door in his boxers.  
  
"Dib? Why are you walking around in your underwear?"  
  
He froze. _Shit. Gaz is already up_.  
  
He turned around slowly, like he was expecting the barrel of a gun to brush his nose. Instead his sister was holding her Game Slave at her side. Gaz looked her brother up and down and raised an eyebrow quizzically.  
  
"Hi, Gaz!" Dib wavered. He turned his body so the implanted arm was facing away from her and clutched at it, knuckles white. "I didn't think you'd be up! Sorry! I was too hot, is all! What are you doing up?! It's Saturday morning!"  
  
"I heard you go out, Dib," Gaz said slowly. "What's wrong with you _this_ time?"  
  
"Nothing!" Her brother squeaked. "Nothing at all! I was just going to see Dad is all, nothing to worry about!" _Oh go away go AWAY Gaz..  
_  
"I wasn't worrying, _idiot_!" Gaz snapped back, her face reverting to it's habitual scowl. "Now lemme see your arm."  
  
Dib backed away a little, gulping. "No, don't! There's an alien implant in my arm and I don't know what it'll do if you bother me! I might hurt you!"  
  
Gaz cracked one eye open to shoot him a droll look. The she shoved the Game Slave into a pocket and reached around her brother's torso to drag his arm out.  
  
Dib pulled back a little, a helpless expression on his face, but he stopped quickly enough at a low warning snarl from Gaz. Her hands were impersonal but surprisingly gentle, her fingers leaving cool tracks across his abused flesh. She probed gently where Dib had ground his fingers between the bones, making the pale boy twist his arm this way and that. Then, apparently satisfied, she released him with a soft grunt.  
  
"Okay, fine. Go see Dad." She said flatly.  
  
Dib gave her a stupid, placating grin and groped for the door knob. He backed down the stairs still facing her, still with the big fake grin twitching nervously on his face. "Then put some clothes on!" Gaz yelled as an afterthought.  
  
The Membrane home lab was a beehive of activity, even at nine o'clock Saturday morning with only one man at work. It was a little cooler then the rest of the house too and goosebumps rose up on Dib's skin when he set foot on the sterile floor. "Dad?" he called softly.  
  
"Here, son!" Membrane boomed cheerfully from a corner. Even in his own home the man's bubbly persona was still in place. With Membrane it was hard to tell but his goggles compressed into crescents as though he were smiling. "Now, I'm very busy with the lima bean situation in Peru, but is there something I can do for you in the meantime?"  
  
_"I'm very busy.." So what else is new?_ Dib sighed inwardly. "Yeah. Do you have an x-ray machine I can use? It's _really_ important."  
  
"An x-ray machine? But of course, son!" Membrane scoffed. "It's over on the south wall. What do you need it for?"  
  
Dib licked his lips. "Oh… um… there's an alien implant in my arm and I need to locate where it is precisely so I can remove it!" The paranormalist wasn't surprised when his father didn't even twitch at his answer.  
  
"Alright, son!" Membrane clapped a heavy hand on Dib's shoulder. "Go use it, but be careful not to irradiate yourself!" Dib gave his father a sickly smile and edged away to find the machine. Sure enough, it was wedged between banks of computers and what was probably other medical equipment.  
  
The thing was a rather modest affair, Dib reflected as he pulled the lead shielding over his upper arm and stretched it under the screen. When he flipped a switch the slim bones in his forearm became visible, the living meat surrounding them reduced to a trivial grayish haze. The probe was easily visible on here, nestled snugly between the two bones just below his elbow. Dib felt a little sick as he turned his arm and watched the bones swivel neatly around the metal lump. The probe _fit in.  
_  
_This can't be allowed to happen._  
  
He turned his arm again, eyes hooded, watching the bones turn neatly around each other. Almost admiring the smooth movement. The probe rotated with them, a hateful black eye, nosed sadistically between sheaves of muscle. It had _worked_. The whole stupid system had _worked_ until this happened.  
  
Over the years Dib's various refuges had been peeled away; secluded little parks where he could watch the leaves cascade down in fall, a little warm nook in the skool boiler room wedged between two machines where he could curl up and nap, away from the hell of classmates and bullies and Zim; a little café where they served hot, greasy, _good_ food and the windows fogged up in winter, his skool desk, which was old and uncomfortable but _still his_; even his _room_; everything had been defiled by Zim. If not blasted literally out of existence then sown with so many traps and monitoring devices that Dib avoided them for self-preservation now. And even if they hadn't been bugged they would still have been soiled by the presence of Zim, his judging eye and searing grin.  
  
Himself, the unassailable integrity of his own body, was the last thing Dib depended on. He knew Zim could reach him there too but after the disastrous incident with the nanorobot years before the alien hadn't tried, thinking it too dangerous perhaps. But now Zim had taken the final step and ruined this last sanctuary as well.  
  
_I can't let this happen.  
_  
Dib flicked off the switch, slid his arm out from under the lead fabric. The boy looked into space, at nothing in particular; then swallowed to moisten his mouth. When he walked past his father the older man darted a quick look after him and sighed, murmuring "My poor insane son…" as he turned back to a chart. Dib didn't waver at the familiar phrase. He was kneading again at his arm, digging his fingers to feel muscle tense over bone.  
  
_I can't tell Dad. Even if I SHOW him he won't listen. I have to do this myself._  
  
Dib padded up the stairs and into the kitchen. Gaz perched at the table, locked onto her Game Slave already; she didn't spare her brother a glance, which suited him.  
  
The cutlery drawer tended to stick, and Dib had to joggle and ease it open. There was a rushing in his ears that drowned out all other noises, all other thoughts, that smothered a little voice at the back of his head screaming _what are you doing what are you doing this is CRAZY--  
_  
_No. This isn't crazy… this is just… doing what needs to be done._  
  
Dib pulled out a knife. The edge flashed keen as a hawk's eye in the kitchen lights. His mouth was open a little; Dib could see his reflection in the blade. A tremor ran through the cold steel and he tightened his grip upon the handle.  
  
_I can't use the painkillers. They'll blur my head.  
_  
He turned around and went for the stairs. At the table Gaz slid one eye wide to look at him. He heard her through the cotton packed around his brain- _"What are you doing DIB? I thought I told you to put clothes on. And why do you have a knife? If you're going to kill yourself, save your energy, I'll do it for you."_ She cocked her head. Both eyes went to slits again. "Why _do_ you have a knife?"  
  
_If I can't numb the pain, this is going to take a lot of concentration._  
  
"Don't worry about it, Gaz," he blurted. Then Dib turned around and went upstairs. His sister gazed after him, barely a touch of anxiety on her face. She took one step after him and paused. Then she turned around and walked the other way.  
  
_You can do it, Dib. The knife is sharp._  
  
The bathroom. Perfect. Dib walked in, locked the door. Turned on the water in the bath tub. Crouched on the linoleum. Found with his fingers where he knew the probe was lodged. Put the fine point of the knife against his own flesh…  
  
…and stopped.  
  
This was the deepest betrayal. Dib was cutting himself, Dib was going to push cold steel down through his own pulsing tissue, through muscle fiber and straining blood vessels and quivering nerves. Dib was cutting himself. It wasn't even something he could blame Zim for. It was Dib, Dib, Dib, only Dib, unhealthy Dib, Dib with crazy in his brain, Dib cutting himself. It was so… _counterproductive.  
_  
A Dib from another world, a world that had existed just two hours ago, was screaming at him: _Stop! Stop it now! Stop it while you can! THINK about this, you jerk, and STOP it!_  
  
_I can't. I CAN'T, don't you get it, don't you SEE, I can't LIVE with this!_  
  
Dib pushed down on the knife. He had been standing at the precipice, and now he hurled himself off.  
  
Blood welled up around the slice, ran down his forearm, turned brown where it was diluted by water. The blade was so sharp that for an instant he hardly felt its bite. Soft choking noises emerged wetly from his throat.

He pulled the knife out. Blood rose and gushed forth, shockingly fast. Dib whimpered, tears pricking his eyes. He could still hardly feel it. He could still hardly believe that he was doing this at all. He pulled out the knife, turned it to drag another cut out at right angles to the first. Felt through a bank of fog the edge grate on bone.  
  
He had cut through arteries. There was so much blood, staining the water brick red. There was a cut shaped like a plus sign on his arm now, just below his elbow.  
  
Dib put his arm under the clean, cold water jetting down from the faucet. Blood ran away. It wouldn't… _stop_. Dib could see, or he thought he could, a little point of silver through the heat-wave red beating in front of his eyes and beating under his skin. He could see white too. Dib put the point of the knife between his bones and tried to nudge the tip of it under the snub-nosed probe. Pain hit then, flaying his nerves and dancing laughing to crush stiletto heels into his brain.  
  
_Oh GOD_  
  
He pulled the knife out, whimpering. It was an involuntary reaction. He still couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to hurt himself to save himself. There was no point to any of this. No point.  
  
Dib leaned over, crushed the slippery limb to his chest. The knife dropped with a clack, scoring a deep line down the bathtub's enamel. He was crying, tears and snot dripping down his nose. He was crying from pain and the crushing _shame_ of doing this to himself. He couldn't stop.  
  
He didn't stop when he heard the crack of electricity from outside in the hall, didn't stop when he smelled the tang of hot metal. He was slouching half-conscious, crying, while his sister wrapped gauze tightly around and around his arm to try to staunch the bleeding. He didn't stop when paramedics arrived and lifted him as gently as they could onto a stretcher. He was going into shock when they set up the emergency blood transfusion, and watched the red roses blooming on his bandage with dull incomprehension. He was unconscious when Membrane looked down at him and said, soft and sad, "My poor insane son…"  
  
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
_Chapter finished August 18, 2004._


	9. Ugly

At nine thirty on Saturday morning Dib was rushed into ER. He was in terrible condition; breathing shallowly, heart stuttering, face gone an ugly cheesy color from blood loss. Membrane followed his son from the door, but was shut out at the operating room by a nurse with a personality that rivaled his in forcefulness. Gaz was a few minutes behind her family; she had tailed the ambulance in her own car and did not immediately enter the building after she had found a parking space. Instead she fidgeted with her cell phone for a few minutes, pulling the antennae up and down.

It was far too late for second thoughts. She had already made the call she needed to.

It wasn't hard to find Membrane. He was at the observation window, watching as the doctors clustered and moved around Dib, hands folded tightly behind his back. Every few minutes he whirled away from the window restlessly, pacing up and down the hall, forehead furrowed. He gave the impression of a teacher watching a group of students very, very carefully, picking apart their moves all the while. Gaz stood at the end of the hall for a few moments and observed her father, gauging his mood. When he returned to the window she approached him.

The scientist started at her hand on his arm, and then accepted the cup of coffee she pressed into his hand with a grateful nod. He unbuttoned the collar with one hand, revealing a narrow chin and a mouth with deep grooves at the corners, and sipped at the steaming liquid. When the cup was empty he crumpled it in his hand, sighing gustily.

Gaz stood at his side, her head barely reaching his shoulder. She watched her brother with dark, calculating eyes.

Dib and Gaz, to make an understatement, had never been close. Even the small amount of company they shared had practically disappeared when Dib entered high skool and Gaz remained behind to finish her last year of middle skool. And yet… she didn't want to see him die. Gaz didn't enjoy her brother's company, she didn't appreciate his constant enthusiasm, but when it came to the quick of things her brother was a person she could trust, and he was extended the same courtesy by his sibling.

In spite of everything, she didn't want to see him die…

Membrane shifted his weight from foot to foot beside her, and then with a harsh sigh he began to pace again. Gaz let her head sink forward slightly and watched the doctors work through her eyelashes. She could blurrily see Dib, his head back, hair shaggy and wild, one arm marked and scored with red. How pathetic it was to see him this way. Like a bird that had hit a window and now, in the grips of death, clutched its claws and jerked its head. A crow, perhaps…

Membrane had buttoned up his collar again. His face was hidden now, all traces of vulnerability and stress gone. He reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder gently. "Not to worry, daughter!" he said cheerfully. "Dib is in the hands of the best doctors that this medical facility has to offer! Although I would of course prefer to work on your brother myself, they'll take adequate care of his wound!"

Gaz rolled her eyes. "That's great, Dad." Oh, she wanted out of here, before her father really decided to bounce some ideas for family-building activities off of her…

"Look," she managed. "Before I came in I called a… friend… of Dib's. He should be here any second now. He probably won't know where to find us. I should go see if he's here."

Without waiting for an answer from her father she turned away and hurried down the hall to the elevator. Once the doors had closed, she allowed herself a sigh of relief. She loved Membrane as much as she loved anyone, but he was _hard_ to deal with when he was stressed and thinking about things. When he was around his children too much, Membrane took an interest in them that was more scientific than paternal: Gaz and Dib became projects, lab animals of a sort, very intelligent animals that were nonetheless ungrateful when someone started trying to improve their lives.

The elevator doors opened at the first floor, and Gaz pushed out by an orderly with a cart full of samples and a worried-looking couple. And there, standing at the front desk with an irritated scowl, was her target.

Zim jumped when Gaz appeared at his shoulder, and then frowned at her angrily. He had hardly opened his mouth to yell at her before Gaz spoke.

"This morning my brother was in the bathroom cutting himself, _Zim,_" Gaz snarled. "He was babbling something about _alien implants_ and _mind control _earlier. I _know_ that you had _something_ to do with that, so don't bother denying it."

He didn't listen to her. "WHAT!" He pulled away from her, stood back and pointed dramatically. His fist quivered in her face. Gaz glared, unimpressed.

"Zim knows nothing, NOOOTHING of this which you speak! This CUTTING you speak of, it is only a product of the Dib's own weakness and delusion! Why did you call me here? I care not for what happens to-"

She couldn't stand his voice anymore. People were staring. "Shut up," Gaz said, her voice shaky with suppressed emotion. "Just SHUT UP."

She stepped forward and jabbed him in the center of his narrow chest. "You God damn LIAR, don't you even try that with me. I know my brother. He might be an annoying little twit most of the time, but he's STRONGER than that. Don't you DARE ever accuse him of… of just DOING something like that again." _It's your fault and I know it, I know it, I can see it._

Zim drew back, putting a border of personal space between them. His mouth was drawn back from his pinkish teeth in an ugly snarl. "Don't. TOUCH. Me. You filthy human!"

His voice was loud enough to catch the attention of the twenty-something receptionist, who looked over at them with an expression of dull-eyed boredom. "If you two can't be quiet then I will have to ask you to leave," she droned, before turning back to the papers in front of her. Both Zim and Gaz glared daggers at her. The woman didn't notice.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Zim," she said, quieter now. "You did this to him. They're operating on him right now. YOU'RE going to come with me and see."

"Why do you even care?" he hissed. "It's no secret that you don't care for him. No one cares for Dib."

She pulsed with rage, barely keeping herself under control. "Maybe I don't, Zim," she spat. "But I know when to quit. My brother would never try to kill himself because of me. Now come ON."

He drew back, regarded her silently, his mouth working. Then he lowered his eyes. Gaz recognized it for submission.

She led him to the elevator and pressed the button for Dib's floor, then moved to stand and watch Zim with her back to the wall. The ride up was tense and silent, and mercifully brief. In her eyes Zim had gone from a mere nuisance to a creature that posed a threat, and she didn't want her back exposed to him. It was certain that he knew her thoughts on this, but the Invader didn't comment.

Membrane was still standing where she had left him. He had gone still and concentrated, staring in at Dib with his brow drawn tight. Gaz moved to stand by him again, uncomfortable but lending support to him in the only way she knew.

Zim drew closer to the observation window, fascinated by the bustling, clustering doctors and the vulnerable form of his enemy. His eyes spasmed when he saw them flutter excitedly about Dib's arm and remembered the probe.

"What are they doing?" Membrane muttered, drawing close by him. Zim turned his head to eye the scientist closely.

"They've found something!" The scientist pressed both gloved hands to the window, very hard. He was standing too close to Zim for the alien's comfort, and as he backed away slightly he found that Gaz was uncomfortably near as well.

"What did they find, _Zim?_" she breathed. Her eyes were raw and ugly.

There were many arguments, later, about what happened in that operating room. There seemed to be no general consensus that medical authorities, lawyers, and the police could come to; explosive tumors were put out of the equation immediately, and Membrane was a highly respected scientist with no odious ties to shady organizations. Dib's biology, while markedly different from a normal person's, was not bizarre enough to produce something like what had come out of his arm naturally. His father and his sister, later, could offer no explanation, and the strange green boy that Gaz had brought into the hospital could later not be found.

What happened was this:

The moment after the doctors managed to remove the foreign metal object from their young patient's arm, it exploded, peppering the room with razor-sharp bits of metal. Dib sustained numerous small but deep injuries, but was mercifully not killed; two of the personnel operating on him were not so lucky. One young nurse had a piece of shrapnel shoot directly through her eye into the brain beyond; she died quickly. An experienced doctor, a veteran of many successful operations, had his throat neatly pierced by a spinning knife-sharp shard and died with hardly a gurgle. The accompanying doctor and two other nurses sustained wounds that, although they were highly painful and certain to scar, would not be fatal. Dib remained mercifully unconscious throughout the ordeal.

Out in the hallway, after broadcasting the destruct signal from his pak, Zim whirled on Membrane and Gaz. The older scientist, astonished, was knocked out easily by one spider leg which cracked him neatly and at the precisely correct angle across the head. Gaz was not so easy.

The human girl whirled away from Zim as he rose up to attacking height on the legs. She moved with abnormal quickness and agility as she dodged the jabbing, slicing legs that Zim menaced her with, and managed to catch him at the edge of his crinkly red shirt.

It was hard to hold out against him in a narrow hall with no cover, but Gaz handled herself well. The fingers of one hand hooked into a claw and she tore at the alien's face with it, stumbling and stepping on her father's body as she did so. Her nails caught at the edge of his slightly protruding eyeball and she pinched deep into the gelatinous ball. Zim hissed, a horribly quiet noise like a tea kettle gone crazy, flailing and scuttling back as best he could. The eyeball literally tore out, dangling down his face by the optic nerve. Aqueous fluid leaked from the tears Gaz's fingernails had made on its surface.

Unbothered by the gore, Gaz twisted her hand and dragged her nails back down over Zim's face, scoring his face and cramming strips of his soft green skin under her nails.

The eye was the first and last real blow she struck. Zim twisted his paklegs around and caught her with them, and then rushed her hard into the wall.

The back of her head met plaster with a _thunk_. Startled by the impact, the girl loosened her death grip on his shirt, and Zim took the opportunity to grab a handful of purple hair and run her across the hallway, slamming her forehead into the wall this time.

He had run her back and forth twice more, until her body was limp and dragging, and only then was he certain that she was unconscious. Zim dropped her body gladly, panting like mad. The eye hurt like someone had dipped it in honey and then set it on an anthill that was also on fire. He whined, deep in his throat, as he gingerly picked it up and worked it back into the socket.

Troublesome human. It was more effort than she was worth, really.

He checked the observation window. The doctors were still going crazy, over their dead coworkers and Dib. He dropped to his knees and laboriously rolled Gaz onto her belly. Then he brushed her purple fringe away so the back of her neck was exposed.

From his pak he removed a familiar device; the same device he had tested on Dib that very morning. It wouldn't have done anything to the boy where it was; he had merely wanted to see that it burrowed properly. To really work this machine needed to be close to the brain.

He set it where her spine met her skull, and watched it burrow in. Then he moved to Membrane, pulled down the man's collar, and repeated the process.

Gaz was tough. Membrane hadn't been beat up much. He thought they would both wake up soon.

Covering his wounded eye with one hand, Zim looked up, checked down the hallway to make absolutely sure that no one was watching, and stole away.

END CHAPTER EIGHT

_Eesh… I'm so sorry that this took so long. It was, obviously, a hard chapter to get out._

_March 15, 2005_


	10. Black Sheep

He was being lifted, rocked, moved, not gently. Voices buzzed by his ears, garbled snippets of sound that he couldn't understand. His body was gone entirely. All he had was a small circle of awareness encompassing his ears and his mouth, which was torturously dry.

He was desperate for water and movement. He strained his mind against the thick fog around him; it resisted stiffly, and then suddenly gave.

The orderlies pushing Dib along didn't pause as he stirred and whimpered. The young woman walking beside the gurney was the only one of the three who reacted. She reached out one small, cool hand and placed it on her brother's damp forehead. "It's all right, Dib," she told him. "They're just taking you to a high-security wing to finish operating. Everything is going to be fine."

The voice was familiar, but the tone- one meant to comfort and soothe- was so out of character that Dib managed to open his eyes. Gaz's face swung and blurred above him and he blinked. "G… Gaz?" he mumbled clumsily. "Where's Dad?"

"He's just talking to some doctors." He eyes and face held a veneer of gentleness. "He's gonna be with us in a few minutes."

Dib began to feel uneasy. Something deep inside was knawing at him, not in his brain but in his gut. _Danger. Danger. _"Who are you?" he whispered. "You're not… you're not my sister…"

Nonsense. But it was what he felt. _Not Gaz not Gaz danger danger…_

She glanced down at him, eyes opaque. Her hand smoothed across his forehead, her fingernails scratching lightly at the skin. "Calm down, Dib," she said. "You'll feel better after surgery."

Gaz wasn't allowed into the operating room. Dib was glad; he turned his head as much as he could and tracked her with his eyes to make sure she stayed out.

When he woke up it was to a presence.

He felt vaguely that Zim was beside him; it had the same feeling, the same gloating, predatory watchfulness. When he opened his eyes he did it very carefully, so that his lashes merely flickered. He forced himself to keep the swell and fall of his chest regular. Only when the silhouette turned out to be Gaz did he open his eyes fully and turn to watch her.

She slipped her hand into his once she saw he was awake, and sat with him, quiet. Dib could feel his palm turning slippery with sweat. There was no one else in the room with them. His sense of paranoia was swelling.

Footsteps sounded outside, and the door scraped as it opened. Dib went tense, then managed to calm himself so quickly that it seemed he had never been afraid. It was only Membrane, with water for both of them.

His father elevated Dib's bed and passed his children their cups. Dib sipped at it gratefully. His arm was snugly bandaged, and he touched the wrapped cloth with a feeling of wonder. He was alive. He was okay. Zim's probe was gone. There were probably government people checking it out now, and within the day Zim would be taken into custody. Even his advanced technology couldn't hold out against the numbers that would be mustered to take him.

Victory felt quiet and dull, not how he had imagined it. Dib forced himself to smile. _I've won._

He still couldn't shake the troubling sense of unease. He should have been enjoying this, he knew; displays of concern from his family were rare to the point of nonexistence. But there was something creepy rather than companionable in the silence, in the weight of their eyes on him. Dib fought off a shiver and laid back, his glass empty. They were just watching him, and he had nearly died, after all…

His arm had begun to throb again. Dib fumbled for the button at his bedside that controlled his morphine dosage and sighed as the pain drained away. "So, Dad…" he said. "When can I come home?"

The ambient temperature in the room dropped about fifty degrees. Membrane looked up, his goggles reflecting the fluorescent light. Dib wished he could see his father's eyes.

"Son," he said flatly. He voice was monotonous and dull, totally foreign to all that Dib had come to expect from his father. "You won't be coming home for a while. A few months at least."

The morphine dulled any strong emotion he might have had, but Dib still tried to sit up. He couldn't bring himself to be surprised by the statement… he had always suspected that he would end up there someday. It was just too soon…

He wished he could think of something sarcastic to say. Nothing came.

Membrane stared grimly into space. "Son," he said. "I'm taking you into the labs for treatment. This insanity has gone too far. It was all right while you were just babbling about aliens, but self-mutilation indicates a higher level of instability than I anticipated. I've done my best to solve this problem without resorted to medication, but… you need treatment, son."

Dib twisted the sheet in his hands.

The scientist looked hard at his son. "Is something wrong, Dib?" The question was concerned but the tone was all wrong. _He wants this_, Dib thought. _He's glad. He's glad…_

"No," he said, hardly recognizing his own voice. "I guess it will make life easier for you, huh? To not have the crazy son around anymore?"

"Dib, calm down…" Membrane began.

"God, shut up!" The boy yelled. "Just… shut up! Don't act like you haven't been waiting for this!" He wanted to get up and throw something. "I guess this is the perfect opportunity for you to just pack me off, huh? HUH? I'm never going to see the light of day again, am I?"

Membrane pushed back his seat and stood up. "You're hysterical," he said. He had stopped listening. Dib caught his breath and put his hand to his forehead. "I'm leaving now. I'll ask the doctor to give you a tranquilizer so you can sleep."

_Fuck. He didn't even listen…_

Dib pushed his forehead into his hands. He couldn't bring himself to watch his sister and father leaving. He didn't even think of escaping; guards would be posted outside his door and his room had no windows. He wouldn't even see the sky before he was taken away.

END OF CHAPTER NINE

_They didn't tell Dib about the doctors because they didn't want to distress him further. I think hearing that was enough of a nasty shock, don't you…?_

_April 6, 2005_


	11. Turnedy

The Membrane house was quiet.

This was not entirely abnormal. The only inhabitant of the house who made much noise was Dib; and in his absence usually the only noises that were produced were the sounds of videogame carnage from Gaz's videogames.

Thus, the surprising thing about the heavy and pervasive silence that laid over the house; nothing but the buzz of electricity, usually inaudible, broke it. There were no video games being played, even though Gaz was home. The TV was not on.

And under some circumstances, even this would not have been surprising. If Dib and Gaz were in skool, for instance; he wasn't there to talk, and unless Gaz had forgotten to turn one of her gaming platforms off there was no music. Membrane was rarely home to break the silence.

Thus, the abnormality of Gaz sitting at the table, at five o'clock on a Sunday afternoon, the day after Dib had been taken into their father's labs for treatment, with nothing to break the silence.

The light was off. The room was dim. The silence folded and oozed and nestled about her, unconcerned by anything. There was no food, or drink, or videogames at hand. Just the quiet, trapping Gaz like a fly in amber.

Her posture was ramrod straight, her hands folded neatly on the table in front of her. Thick purple lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. For the stillness on her face she might have been meditating.

But wait; look closer, be patient, and there is movement. It is slight but here nonetheless. The minute flexing of her throat as she swallows. The flicker of eyes under lids. The way the shadows change on her interlocked fingers as they bend-bend-bend from pinkie to forefinger and back again. No further evidence.

Tiny, regular movements that have been repeated for hours, until they've become a mantra, a chant, a prayer made by the body instead of the soul.

Flex-flex-flex. The fingers press again and again.

Deep inside, Gaz's control mind is imprisoned. She's been usurped. Unsurprisingly, she's pissed about this. It's a bigger, badder pissed than normal, even; because if there's one thing Gaz values in her life it's _control._

And in her head there sits the thing that took all that away. Out in the world, the person… the _thing_ who made it goes free. A neat little device, it is; a sort of miniature pak, encoded with instructions for infiltrating the brains of living organisms (specifically humans) and replacing native controls with the Irken command structure. Plus one other nifty little feature: a receiver to grab instructions from Zim (the mastermind himself) and put them into work. Put them to _Zim's_ work.

One of them was in Dib, put there just to scare him. Until quite recently at least, until it came close to being discovered. One of them sits in Membrane's head, establishing control still in a brain as sophisticated and nearly inhuman and _delicate_ as his. And one of them- the last so far- is here, cuddled up to Gaz's hindbrain, where she's chipping away at it with all her resolve and strength.

But these things were made for normal humans, and Gaz isn't exactly the poster child for that kind of thing. In fact, she is possibly the worst human being on the face of the planet that Zim could have chosen to drop his little surprise in.

Because at this point, Gaz is _beyond_ her usual low current of anger. She's _boiling_ with rage, positively _spitting _it; it's beating at the inside of her skin. It makes sweat glands pop open and her heart rate increase. When the pak-plant detects the changes it tweaks a neuron and orders the production of a natural calming agent, because physical agitation can lend strength to a troublesome subordinate mind. It's not enough, though; not against Gaz, because she's less about white-hot rage and more about the cold, calculating thirst for revenge. More like an adder than a tiger. She's had years to practice being nasty. This is just an opportunity to put all of that to work.

The fingers flex. The eyes glance rapidly back and forth under their lids. Gaz's tongue emerges, drags across her slightly swollen lower lip. The minutes drag past at their own tempo and Gaz is still fighting.

Zim stood on the roof of his house, looking out on his neighborhood for what he was sure would be the last time. Victory made him swell. Victory made everything better, in fact. The air was less muggy and thick, the water less noxious, stinking children less annoying, the smog less cloying, now that all these things belonged to _him_.

Or almost, anyway; so close to his he could smell it. Dib was entirely out of the way, for as long as Zim chose to keep him imprisoned; and no other human could resist him, or would even have the spleen to try.

It was a thing Zim had admitted to himself about his human rival: except for some fluke of birth, Dib would have made a formidable Irken. An excellent one, actually; focused and adaptable and with a jittery intelligence that could have made him an Invader.

_I will keep the horrible dirtchild_, Zim thought, _keep him to show what the world will be like under ZIM. Keep him alive to show him how futile his puny resistance WAS, and then when he crawls at my feet like the worm he SO is and begs and pleads and mewls for me to do him the mercy of killing him, I... I WON'T! Even if he asks NICELY! Because no one, NO ONE who annoys Zim ever gets the easy way out!_

He erupted with laughter without really thinking about it, cackling insanely for five minutes with hardly a pause for breath. After he got a grip on himself he realized that everyone in the neighborhood had a door or window open and was staring at him incredulously.

Reflexively, Zim made sure that his wig and contacts were intact. Every piece of his disguise was there; reassured of this he extruded the pak legs and went skittering down the front of his house and into the door.

With him gone the house looked perfectly normal, for its standards. Most of the other houses on the block lacked the radioactive green glow, the puffer fish in the front yard, and the men's sign on the door, though one new homeowner has taken a liking to the unique décor and was mimicking it.

After waiting a moment to make sure that the strange little green boy wasn't going to do anything else interesting, the neighbors all went inside.

"That child ain't bein' raised right," crusty Ms. Tinny complained to one of her cats.

Zim, deep in the belly of his labs, couldn't care less what his neighbors thought of his upbringing. Instead he purred and paced, like a cat to himself, clutching Dib's laptop close to him. Really her was nerving himself to go, for although he had only kept the green house as his base for five years- hardly a fraction of an Irkens life- he had become set there, against his will. He had found a true enemy and a mission.

GIR meandered after him, wearing his dog suit like a child might wear pajamas, paws sticky with some sugary concoction. Every few steps his paused to lick off his gummy feet with ridiculous daintiness. It was a pointless exercise because he had already tracked a layer of goo across the floor and whenever he took another step the furry pads of his suit just got sticky again. Zim only noticed when he realized his boots were clinging slightly to the metal floor. He pulled one foot up with a sucking sound and glared at his minion. "GIR! What are you doing!"

The robot plunked himself down peaceably by Zim's feet. "I went to Cruddy Donuts with pig," he explained. "We got a whooooole big box with varied selection for great value, and also the gots not much carbs!" He blinked up brightly at his master. "I heard that on the tee-vee-eee!"

GIR's usually speech held only a fraction of that coherency, so Zim honestly wasn't surprised. "O_kay_," he said, eyeing the greasy mess. "I guess I'll just get the computer to clean this up or… eh, doesn't matter."

GIR looked up from where he was sucking his pay. "Arencha gonna yell at me, or get mad or do somethiiiiing?"

"Nah," Zim replied, abruptly decisive. "I guess this is it."

He actually bent down and picked up the SIR unit, though he held him at arm's length. It was so much like what he had done a couple days ago, prying GIR away from the TV, that he had to pause and reorient himself to how much everything had changed. The robot just stared at him curiously, cooperating. "Are we goin' on a fieeeeeeld trip?" he asked.

Zim carried him down the hall towards an elevator. "Kind of, I guess," he replied.

"They gonna give us donuts there?"

Zim wondered what it was like to be so blissfully ignorant and single minded. "Maybe." No point in provoking a crying fit.

"Like the Cruddy Donuts?" GIR asked. "I like them! They have artichoke-and-bacon flavor!"

Zim gagged quietly to himself. "Those are horrible, GIR. You don't want to eat them." They had reached the elevator and Zim stepped onto the pad, flicking instructions from his pak to the computer. The elevator began to rise.

"Awwww," GIR sighed; a surprising subdued reaction from him. Maybe he sensed Zim's pensive, expectant mood. "Hey Master, do you remember a loooong time ago when… uh… when we tried to send Dib to his moosey fate in that place with the moose and you fed it my walnuts?"

The Invader remembered that plot quite clearly, mostly because it had come so close to working. He remembered how easily Dib had become contemptuous towards his fellow humans without Zim's presence; the flat heavy-lidded droll look as he wrote each and every one of them off as a lost cause. Dib seemed to feel that he had to keep up a good front in front of Zim, lest the Irken take advantage of his low morale and push him into giving up a fellow human. Dib didn't like his classmates but he didn't want them to die, at least not most of the time. What the human craved was respect and affection and he sensed that if he let a fellow human down than any chance for being acknowledged by his race would be lost.

And Dib's wariness was completely, utterly, and entirely _justified_, because Zim _would_ have taken advantage of that, would have used it to grind the human ruthlessly into dust. Dib's ceaseless optimism (because deep down inside, Dib was really the most blindly hopeful kind of optimist, beyond whatever his rational mind said) only held him up so far.

"Yes," Zim said to GIR at last. "I remember that."

GIR nodded and giggled thoughtfully to himself. "That was a field trip."

It was indeed. The elevator stopped with a slight lurch. They were in the house's roof now, where the Voot Cruiser sat on its pedestal, waiting to be used. The cockpit was already open. Zim walked over to it and paused to remove GIR's dog suit, suffering another brief case of déjà vu. The green fabric flopped to the floor, limp and empty, looking like an animal with all the juices and organs sucked out. The floor under it began to recede as it was taken to be disposed of, although in a few short minutes it wouldn't matter whether it was there or not. Then the Invader set GIR in the Voot Cruiser, crawling after him promptly. The windshield sealed down in front of him.

The peaked purple roof began to split open. Zim looked up at it, and outwards, watching the sky, thinking of a world that would soon be his and the invasion he would have to stave off to keep it. And at the last, he thought of his rival.

_Bye-bye, DIB, _he thought. _I'll keep you for a while longer yet. It won't be NEARLY as much FUN saving the planet and having it at my feet if you're not around to WHINE about it._

He thought that soon, he might allow the human to escape, so they could finish this last stage of their war. He had some deliciously nasty little surprises planned out already.

The thruster pods on the Cruiser lit and aligned themselves to blast them out of the fully retracted roof. A second later it went screaming out of the little green house, far into the atmosphere.

END CHAPTER 11

7/3/05

_Well, I don't know. What do you think?_


	12. Breakthrough

Three and a half months later, something broke.

It was soon after the beginning of school, while the days were still warm by noon. The feeling of fall was in the air, though; in the crispness of morning and evening and in the way the leaves had begun to turn.

It was the start of Gaz's sophomore year, although she wasn't in control of the experience. Dib should have been a junior but he wasn't there at all; Membrane had kept his son in the labs to treat him further, and otherwise the three family members moved through different lives.

Until Gaz had her breakthrough.

It was fourth hour, just after lunch, during history class. She sat in the back and so no one noticed when she stiffened, muscles clenching so tightly that she broke her pencil in half. In the next moment her head fell forward a bit, and then Gaz drew it up again, her eyes hard and focused, and very angry.

The girl promptly slammed her binder closed, sweeping it into the backpack that was sitting it under her desk. Pencils and a pink pig-shaped eraser followed it until her desk was clean. The banging and shuffling noises caught the attention of everyone else in the classroom and the other students turned to stare at her. The teacher frowned disapprovingly at the lapse in attention.

"Is something wrong, Gaz?" the middle-aged woman asked. Membrane's daughter was quiet, reserved, and not much of a troublemaker, so if the girl was breaking her usual pattern of behavior there might be a plausible reason to take trouble for her.

"_No_," Gaz responded harshly. Her voice was very different suddenly- much harsher then the usual toneless, quiet timbre that the teacher had grown used to. "I have to go to the nurse's office. I have," her mouth drew back into something that might have been a snarl or a toothy, dangerous grin, "_cramps._ Very bad _cramps."_

A muffled snigger ran through the class and the teacher frowned. "Well, go to the nurse's office, I suppose- here, I'll write you a pass-"

She looked up from her desk at the front of the classroom when the door banged. Gaz was already gone.

The girl herself walked rapidly down the halls, head lowered and with her backpack slung over one shoulder. The halls were dingy and empty between classes. Trash was scattered around the lockers and someone had left a heavy black boot print on the wall. It was possibly the most beautiful thing she had seen in weeks, because this time _Gaz _was the one choosing where to walk and what to look at, Gaz was _controlling_ herself: not the thing that Zim had put in her head. She walked out one of the emergency exit doors at the end up the hall, and beside the graffitied concrete wall with cigarette butts scattered around her and the chill of autumn in the air she threw back her head and laughed. It seemed appropriate and didn't attract as much attention as screaming with victory did. She was pleased and flushed and proud, proud, proud, and had a goal in mind.

It was a privilege of the Membrane children that whenever they took ill, be it a common cold or a broken limb or a strange mental defect where everything that was eaten tasted like pork, their father would take the time to take care of them. It was most attention they ever got from him, and at one point in his youth Dib had been so desperate to get his father's notice that he had taken to standing out in the rain in his underwear attempting to catch a cold. At about age seven he had gotten terribly embarrassed at the fact that his sister was seeing him in his underwear (and, after thinking it over, was coming close to joining him) and had stopped courting illness for his father's attention.

But the tradition hadn't died, and when Gaz was plagued with the flavor of pork her father had taken her in to find out what was wrong and fix it. In the end that problem was out of his league and Membrane had never known the truth about how it was solved, only pronounced that she was cured when Gaz and Dib had returned victorious from the land of the Shadow Hog. And now that Dib had taken ill in the head, Membrane had put his son into the laboratories to see if he could find out what was wrong there.

The problem would never be solved by Membrane, though, because there wasn't truly a problem. Dib might seem delusional but he was correct. It was pointless to keep him here.

The labs were brightly lit and quietly busy. Gaz slipped between orderlies and scientists, headed for the compound where her brother was kept, confident that she could handle whatever security threw at her. She had never used passwords or card keys in her father's labs; she had never really needed to, because the building accepted her. She got where she needed to go, always. If this was anything like their last try at shaking off Membrane's security it would be a cakewalk, although she didn't know where they'd get beaver suits this time.

A migraine was beginning to develop, and Gaz paused to rub at her temples. It didn't help; the pain seemed to be set back farther in her head, towards where her neck merged with the curve of her skull. _We're fighting_, she realized. _That thing and… me._ The control hadn't been broken; it was just pushed off for a while. Maybe she couldn't count on being entirely free until the device was out of her head entirely.

How long had she been moving under her own command? About an hour and a half, maybe, getting out of school and walking to the labs. She didn't know how much longer she could hold the control off. The pain that was beginning to manifest seemed to suggest that she wouldn't have too much longer.

That made it even more important to get to Dib and free him. Gaz started to walk again, following her guts. The siblings might not get along in their day-to-day routines, and in fact were often entirely at odds, but in a pinch there was no one Gaz trusted more than Dib to back her up. They made a good team, really, with her ruthlessness and Dib's ingenuity and energy. It was unfortunate that Zim's machine seemed to be winning back control; it meant that all she would be able to do would be to turn Dib loose and then wait until she had the energy to resist again.

She came to the heavy metal door that opened into Dib's secure area, and put her hand against the fingerprint reader. The mechanism cleared her for entry without any trouble.

The containment field around Dib was basically the same as the one she had been held in several years ago. Force field walls made a small enclosure furnished with a narrow bed and a simple toilet. No distractions were offered. At the time, Gaz had simply sat, brooding. Dib paced instead, incessantly, hour after hour, and was pacing now. He had never been good at sitting still.

He turned very quickly when he heard the door come open, and came forward to look at her without reaching out to touch the force field. He looked strained and intense. Gaz didn't make eye contact but went for the controls to the field instead, glancing them over. She didn't have Dib's skill with computers but that didn't really matter.

"Gaz," he croaked harshly. "What are you doing here?"

He sounded suspicious, which was irritating. Here she was, glaring at the controls to his prison, and it wasn't obvious to him?

Well, perhaps not. He had been here for three months and she hadn't come to visit him- hadn't been able, but he couldn't know that. In the regular course of their lives the concern she showed to him was almost nonexistent- Dib could take care of himself- so he probably didn't expect her to show up to help him. Maybe it wouldn't be a waste of time to fill him in.

"I'm here to let you out, idiot," she replied, fiddling with some buttons in front of her. A window popped up on the monitor and Gaz frowned at it.

"Why?" Dib asked. He glared at her suspiciously and brought his hands up to his shoulders, moving his fists close to touching the field. The field dealt a nasty shock whenever it was touched- Gaz had discovered this herself when she was kept here- and Dib had probably found it out as well.

"I can't help my brother just because I feel like it?" Gaz said, glaring.

Dib glared back at her. "Well, you've never bothered to _before_, so you know, I'm just wondering at the sudden… change of heart."

His sister glared at the screen in front of her. Several boxes had popped up now, flashing their individual error messages. If this went on for much longer an alarm would probably sound and security would come down on them like a ton of bricks. The thought didn't worry her but it would be irritating to fight them all off and have to rescue Dib on top of that. It was probably coming to where she'd have to ask Dib for help with getting through it.

The pain in her head seemed to be building. It couldn't be too much longer before that thing had worn her down enough to grab back the reins.

"_Listen_, Dib," Gaz told him lowly. He narrowed his eyes at her and she sighed. "Look, Zim put this _thing_ in my head. And Dad's too. It…" Oh, it was nearly painful to say… "It gives orders."

Dib looked breathless, angry. "Orders?"

"Don't trust Dad," she told him. "He can't resist it. He took your ship away."

Dib stiffened. Gaz didn't need to look at him to sense his anger. Dib was possessive about the ship, possessive and obsessive and he _needed_ it in a way, because he wanted to get out so much and that was the way to make it. "Where!" he demanded. "Where is it now!"

"Zim's house," Gaz replied, reaching out to brush the screen with her fingers. She could feel the static from it, fizzling at the pads of her fingers like soda bubbles.

"He took it to Zim!" Dib forgot the field for a moment, jerked to slam his fists into it, then recalled where he was and jolted back very quickly. "That traitor…"

His sister hissed between her teeth irritably. "It isn't _Dad_, Dib. It's _Zim. _Dad never even noticed your dumb ship before, remember?"

"I need to get it back," Dib told her, eyes deadly.

"Well _duh_," Gaz snapped back at him. "You'll need _something_ to take after Zim. What do you think I'm letting you out for?"

Dib's face darkened but he remained silent. Gaz stared incredulously down at the screen, which was going nuts with blinking windows and error messages. "Dib, _how_ did you do this before?" she demanded.

He gave her a sideways look. "Well, _I_ had my computer," he snapped. "_And_ I searched out the password before I came."

"Not like I had _time_ for that," Gaz growled in return. "Came straight from skool after being controlled by Zim for three months, remember! _You_ should be the one who knows the password; you've been sitting here listening to the people for three months."

"And how am I supposed to know that!" Dib said shrilly. "It's not like they just say it in front of me! Even if there's no way I could get there and let myself out… well… _they_ think it's a security risk!" _And it is,_ he added mentally.

Gaz scowled, pushing down the urge to just stomp off, to hell with the world and her brother. _Remember Zim. Remember revenge._ "Well," she said. "If _you_ don't know the password and _I_ don't know it, how are you supposed to get out?"

"Jeez, search me," her brother returned. "Why don't you grab some poor scientist and threaten to doom his ass if he doesn't tell you? Isn't that your thing?"

Gaz looked up at him thoughtfully. An average person wouldn't notice the change in her expression but Dib had years of practice at reading his sister's moods and recognized the purse of her mouth for what it was. He stared at her blankly for a minute. "Gaz? Um, _Gaz! _I was _joking!"_

She smirked. "Not a bad idea, though."

Dib restrained himself from screaming for no real reason as she left. It wouldn't have bothered anyone if he had lost it for a minute (they were used to it) but it bothered _him._

He paced back and forth through his prison for a few minutes, and eventually settled on his bed to gnaw his fingernails anxiously. He realized with surprise that his hands were shaking madly, and wished Gaz would hurry up and get back already. Dib felt sorry for whatever poor idiot she caught but he was so desperate to get out… and hey, at least it wasn't him this time.

It took another couple of minutes but Gaz returned, harrying a skittish-looking junior scientist before her. The young man looked entirely cowed, and close to dropping the thick wad of folders under his arms. He looked up at Dib and down to the screen nervously, shoving up the safety goggles he wore with one hand. "_Him! _I can't let h-_him _out!"

Gaz looked like she was enjoying the opportunity to take out her rage one someone. "That's fine," she purred. "I guess you really don't _have_ to. Of course, you don't have to _breathe,_ either, but there are _consequences_." She didn't ask if he understood her. The young man's pinched face and bobbing Adam's apple showed that he did.

"But!" the young man tried, in one last-ditch protest. "If I let him out of there, I could lose my _job!_ I've worked for years to get a position at Membrane Industries! And besides, it's for his own good! He's crazy, don't you know!"

Dib rolled his eyes. If this guy thought that trying to get pity from Gaz would get him out of this, he was going to have a very nasty surprise in the next couple minutes.

"Oh, believe me," Gaz said, her voice abruptly very cold. "_Everyone _will understand why you let him out. If you make me get _ugly _about this then they'll all _wish_ you had let him out so they wouldn't have to clean up your quivering remains."

Apparently the deciding that he could always find another job with someone else, the scientist whimpered and reached for the keyboard.

Dib grinned as he watched the shimmering force field panels dissolve away like oil rainbows on water. He tore the thin sheets off his bed and jumped for the now-open edge of his prison, twisting the cloth in his hands. The stuff was tough fabric, very resistant to tearing to prevent patients from tearing it into strips and somehow committing suicide with it; and when he had formed it into a crude rope it would probably be decent for tying someone's hands together.

Gaz slammed her knee into the top of the young man's back and held him down as Dib tied his hands behind his back, doing his best to make sure that it was snug enough to be secure without cutting off too much blood to the man's hands. Another sheet-rope went around his ankles and one more made a cumbersome gag. After that the two siblings dragged the scientist over to Dib's former cage and rolled him under the bed. A simple tap of a button restored the force field, and Dib neatly stacked up the folders that the scientist had been carrying next to the edge.

After that they went for the exit, Dib shaking with eagerness and Gaz with strain.

"Ungh… unh, SHIT!"

Gaz slammed her shoulder into the metal panel as best she could. She could feel a lump growing on her head where she had slammed it against a metal partition in the vents and Dib's upper body was heavy and warm across her calves.

"Gaz," he whispered. "Could you be quieter! There are probably guards right out there! And _why_ did we have to wear these bee suits!"

His sister curled her lip back towards him. "I checked already. It's fine; he's probably out smoking pot or something."

"What about the _bee_ suits!"

"Because they didn't have _beaver_ suits this time, _duh."_

The bee suits that both of them wore were heavy, fuzzy, far too hot, and reeking of mothballs and maple syrup. Gaz had snagged two of them from a behavioral study going on in one wing of the building and the two of them had walked quite calmly down the hall for several wings with Dib's distinctive hairstyle hidden by the hood before Gaz had dragged them into the ventilation system. Now they were _right_ next to the outside, but the damn covering panel was stuck. Gaz gritted her teeth and slammed against it again.

"I think I heard the screws giving," Dib said quietly. "Try it again."

He was awful confident back there where she couldn't reach him. "I _am_," she ground out. "You know, I would _love_ to let you do this."

Thankfully, Dib shut up. She could hear his breath hissing as he shifted and scratched at the edges of the bee suit. He seemed to be allergic to something in the fabric.

Gaz tried once more, driving her body weight into the grate, and held her breath and she heard a cree_-_eeek-_ping!_ noise. One screw down.

The girl maneuvered a hand underneath her torso to push at the corner she thought it had come from. It was an awkward position but it was the right place and she was pushing hard enough that the screen began to bend and give outwards. Another screw pinged free.

Those were the two bottom ones; Gaz sighed in relief and worked to get both hands free to push at the lower part of the grate. Reluctantly the metal gave way and she was able to make a small opening to the outside world. She turned her head and started to push through it, the metal dragging harshly over her cheek. It felt for a few seconds like her ear was going to come off and then the edge was scraping over neck and compressing her shoulders. Gaz rounded them as much as she could to fit through the opening and after that it was easier, with only a tense moment as she worked her hips through the metal. Then she was slithering full-body across the concrete strip in an alley, smearing the black-and-yellow front of the bee suit with dirt and filth. She grimaced when she stood and pulled in her arms, making a brief and desperate search for the internal zipper. When she was free from it she gasped, feeling as through her internal temperature had just dropped by ten degrees. Those things were _hot._

Dib grunted and swore softly as he contorted himself to get out behind her. He tore of the suit with even more gusto, and Gaz didn't bother to restrain her snicker at the livid red rash starting up on his neck and wrists. He was _definitely_ allergic to something in the fabric.

He bundled up the hideous furry thing in his arms and went for a garbage can sitting by the wall. When he opened the lid his nose wrinkled in disgust; he closed it and went for another. Gaz opened it to see what had bothered him, idly curious. The smell that blasted from it made her grimace and her eyes watered as she looked: the flaccid remains of lab animals. Figured that they wouldn't be disposed of right. This was disgusting.

She slammed the lip down on top of them and went with Dib to the next one, wadding the scratchy suit down on top of a mass of shredded paper. Dib brushed his hands off distastefully and looked over her head, down the alley at the street. It was madly busy out there, people crossing and cars roaring by. That had probably drowned out the noise of their emergence.

It felt like someone was boiling a pot of water in her head: everything was simmering and blurry. She wondered how much longer she could hold out against Zim; Dib needed to get out of here before she lost it and tried to take him back in. How much longer before that scientist would be discovered, anyway? How often did they check up on Dib?

Gaz rubbed at her temples again. It didn't help. "Look, Dib," she said grouchily. "You need to get out of here now."

He glanced down at her distractedly. "Are you okay, Gaz?" The next second he looked back up and at the outside again. Brotherly obligation: Dib still felt beholden to it, for all that Gaz had attempted to establish that she would really rather not be his sibling.

"No," she told him. "Now get lost."

Dib looked back down at her, nervousness and concern fighting for dominance on his face. "Will you be all right?" he asked.

They would just have to see.

"Yes," she told him. The pain in her head was even worse now. "Get lost before you get caught out here."

She had the feeling he didn't believe her, but when she clenched her fist and raised it threateningly in his direction Dib gave in. "All right," he said to her. "I… I guess I'll see you later, huh?"

Gaz bit down hard on her lip. "Maybe," she said. Dib nodded and turned to walk down the alley towards the street, giving her frequent anxious glances over his shoulder. Gaz crouched down beside the garbage can filled with paper and leaned her forehead into her hands, which felt very cold all of a sudden. She hoped she could fight it off long enough for him to get away.

END OF CHAPTER 12

_July 29, 2005_

_Many thanks and much love to the lovely J. Random Lurker and Red Crow for their help on this chapter. They're both great ficcers, go check them out._


	13. Wish It Were True

Dib jogged very lightly along the sidewalk. Running was invigorating, after three months crammed in a 20-by-20 foot cage; the noise of traffic and other pedestrians was slightly overwhelming. He was sweating already, the cloth of his shirt sticking under his arms and back.

He knew exactly where he was going. Unprepared, unequipped, he didn't know what he was going to do when he got there. All he had were his hands and the anger in his heart. Dib wasn't even honed to the fitness he was used to. Muscles had been confined and had atrophied a little from the inactive time. He had to slow down to a power walk, taken aback by the weakness creeping up on him.

Probably he needed to hit the house, grab some of them equipment that would hopefully still be stashed in his room. He would have no chance of making it to the Spittle Runner if he was ill prepared. Dib sped up to a jog again, muscles that had strung themselves wire-tight with cramps uncoiling.

It took an hour and a half to reach his neighborhood. By then he was flushed and his black hair was soaking with sweat, the scythe flopping behind his back. He jogged up the sidewalk, turned at his house, and pushed his palm against the touch pad by the door.

Membrane apparently hadn't bothered taking him out of the system; thank God, thank God. Dib heard the bolts clicking in the door and shot through when there were only two feet of space between door and frame, slamming it closed behind him. The house echoed with emptiness and Dib raced upstairs, lunging into his bedroom, drinking in the sight of his _place_, thickly coated with dust but unchanged. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to the bed, where he hauled out several cardboard boxes, coughing at the thick clouds that stirred up from the sheets and cardboard. The dust made his eyes tear and he blinked the moisture away, sliding his fingers under one flap of cardboard and wrenching it up sharply.

It was all still there: the stash of equipment to use against Zim if things ever got _desperate._ The stealth suit was folded neatly on top; he threw the sleek black material carelessly to the side and began to dig out explosives.

It was a stockpile years in the making. Relatively primitive pipe bombs shared space with more sophisticated, timed explosives that he had built as his technical expertise increased and he realized the need for a delayed blast. When he judged that he there were enough he pulled stretched himself out under the bed and dragged a thick, musty burlap messenger bag out from where it was pushed against the wall. He wriggled into his stealth suit and slid bombs into pockets, into the bag; everywhere they would fit. He had just thrown the sack of the carryall over his shoulder when he heard the door click open downstairs and footsteps creak across the floor. Dib froze in place immediately. His back was to the door; he was facing his bed. The skin between his shoulder blades itched.

It was too early for Membrane to be home – he was sure of it. Gaz. It had to be Gaz.

A shiver ran through his body. He tucked the bomb into one last pocket with shaking, suddenly clammy hands. He was abruptly hyperaware the house around him, of his place in it.

No noises from downstairs. Gaz was standing still – Dib's madly working brain pictured her, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, waiting, waiting until he cracked. The bogeyman in the house, the bogey little-sister. If he stepped out, what would she do? He would be vulnerable. She'd see him, pinpoint his position right away. He wished he hadn't left her alone.

_Come on, Dib,_ he thought. _Work this out. Come on, Zim's made you weak but he hasn't made you STUPID! Find a way out of this. Change the rules. Surprise her._

His eyes went to the window.

A moment later he let himself onto the bare earth under the eaves of his house, dropping immediately to his knees so that he wasn't in line with the kitchen window. The weight of the bag bowed him and he crouched still, thinking.

_Okay. Gaz isn't here to help. Not anymore. I have to make sure that she can't follow me. I have to make sure she's okay._ Dib gnawed on his lip, mind in quiet agony. Was Zim controlling her firsthand, or had he just left standing orders for Dib to be stopped? Would she fight like Zim or like herself?

_Just have to wing it. Shit._

Dib crept around to the front of the house, probably more stealthily than he needed to. Eventually he ended up at the front door and crouched again to calculate his next move. Assuming Gaz hadn't moved from where she'd waited for him, she'd be facing away from the door and if he moved quickly enough it might be possible to surprise her from behind.

How had she known he was in the house in the first place? Sure, she was his sister, and probably instilled with Zim's guile too, but… it was creepy. The way she had just seemed to point, straight as a compass needle, to where he was. Could that _really _come just from knowing somebody's mind?

Yeah. Probably. Of course it could, stop screwing around, Dib, stop putting it off, the longer you're out here the more things that can go wrong.

He set his bag by the door, took a deep breath, and went for it.

Gaz wasn't in front of the stairs when he plunged in. Dib saw it and rolled to the side, hardly thinking. It was good timing. It meant he was quick enough to avoid the Membrane Collectible lamp that whistled down and shattered on the floor. Gaz dropped it and lunged for him; Dib shot across the room at full-tilt scuttle and took cover behind the couch. He had a second to breath before she jumped over the back and almost onto him. Working purely on reflex he tore off a couch cushion and blocked her with it, letting Gaz bear herself to the ground.

He didn't want to hurt her, he _really_ didn't want to have to hurt her. Too bad Gaz didn't seem to be hindered by any such compunction. She went in a mad dash for the kitchen and Dib lunged for her calves, made her fall. She caught herself stiffly and he dragged her back. Abruptly she gave up on getting to the cutlery drawer and rolled over instead. Thin sharp-nailed fingers caught the soft skin on his inner arm and pinched and _twisted._ It felt like her nails were going to press right through the skin and meet in the middle. Dib snarled for breath, jammed his fingers as hard as he could into the first pressure point he could remember on her arm.

It forced her to let go. Dib didn't take the chance of letting her on her feet again. He hauled her thrashing across the room instead, close to the entryway to Membrane's lab. He stopped trying when she latched her teeth into his forearm and started clawing.

It was an ugly, nasty way to fight. There wasn't enough space for either of them to gain the advantage they needed. Dib shielded his face with one arm, curled to deflect the kicks a little and pinched her nose with the free hand.

Even Gaz couldn't go without breath forever. Fighting the urge, face bright red, she released his arm to gasp in air, and Dib didn't give her the chance to get her teeth in him again. He forced her head backwards, jammed her back against the floor, and rolled her into a backwards somersault.

Then, feeling sick to his stomach _(Zim, it's not Gaz, it's Zim, not Gaz-)_ he pushed her down the stairs.

Membrane's lab was filled with weird stuff. Probably hundreds of things down there could serve as weapons; Dib was counting on it, was surprised she hadn't taken something from there in the first place. He watched her slink away from the bottom of the stairs and into the jungle of machinery. _That's right, keep on going. Go all the way into the corner. Find something really good. Come on…!_

When she was really out of sight, he pulled a small explosive out of one pocket and keyed a time into it.

Membrane's home lab had seen its share of explosions. It was imperative to have a sensitive safety mechanism installed to protect the house, the neighborhood, the city, and the surrounding countryside, because when Membrane's experiments went wrong they did so impressively. Thus, the house was equipped with sensitive equipment to register even the start of blasts and to seal of the lab when one started.

Dib took his bomb to the center of the stairs, set it down carefully, and bolted.

Twenty seconds later, an explosion was registered by the house computer, and heavy metal doors slammed across the connection from the lab to the stairs and the stairs to the house. The ground didn't even shake.

Dib ran with his bag over one shoulder. It hit him in the ribs over and over again. He was hungry and tired and burning with an agonized worry for what he had done.

When he got the change, he was going to fucking _kill_ Zim for this.

Twenty minutes to the house, and when he arrived Dib glared at the bright green façade.

Looking back, their fights were almost _cute_, almost _fun_; whatever they had been, none of them had ever been _this_ bad. Nothing so… playing for _keeps. _He wouldn't _ever_ have been forced to stay in a prison cube for three months back then. It wouldn't have been _allowed_.

He jumped out into the gnome field, and went for the door.

It seemed easier than usual to get into the house, or maybe he just wasn't remembering it right. But no… he was out of practice. It should have been hard, he should have laser burns; he should be hot and sticky with sweat. Dib paused suspiciously, looking over the front room, doing a spot check for obvious traps or any sign that Zim had noticed him at all. There was nothing going on up here; Dib had been studying Zim's house for years and by now the emptiness made his skin crawl all over. The TV wasn't even on. Dib crept around the edge of the room, quivery with adrenaline, squeezing around the TV and towards the garbage can that would let him down into the lower base. By the time he reached it he was nearly at the point of a paranoid breakdown.

Strange, standing back in this old place. It wasn't so long ago that he'd been here unchanged. Now the slopes and the curves of the walls seemed nightmarish, like a stranger standing just behind your shoulder. It had been that way when he first started infiltrating Zim's base; everything scary, twisted and dark, cold, alien. He had gotten used to it until the strangeness fit around him, another skin; a big one made of metal and technology that no human had seen before. And now the weirdness was back.

Dib ran his hand along the side of the bag, fingered the lumps and bumps that were explosives. He was going to break down the old walls of dreams.

He fit his long body into the garbage can and began to ease himself down.

Five minutes later, a computer monitor on the first level erupted in flinging shards of shrapnel and greasy smoke. The security system tripped into an automatic response routine, but Dib had already moved on.

He made a ragged circle through the big room, sticking bombs to computers, to bubbling tubes of fluid, anything that looked _messy._ Some of the timers he set to a delay as long as twenty minutes. When he had finished the circuit he went back to the elevator shaft. The moving platform wasn't working, had been dropped when the explosions started as a part of the countermeasures, but it didn't matter because he wasn't using it.

After the second level, his arms and legs were violently shaking and his fingertips were bloody.

On the third level he found Zim, standing and waiting for him.

Dib didn't move immediately to fight. He crept through the machines instead, leaving red fingerprints, watching. Zim paced idly in circles, boots tapping on the floor. Abruptly the Irken turned, stopped, his eyes reflecting the cold red of rubies as he peered into the lab. "Helloooo, _Dib,_" he leered. "It sounds like you've been doing _well._"

The human shivered. Fine hairs on the back of his neck lifted.

"I wondered when you'd work up the spooch to come face me. It took about as long as I _expected_, actually."

Something was weird here. Something was off about this. All Dib's instincts were screaming it. Zim's voice was almost toneless; oily and smooth. He was never this well-modulated. He never had this much of a grip. Dib wormed forwards and the rolled, quickly, to flatten himself under some foreign and bizarre machine. It looked like Zim knew exactly where he was.

"Pathetic, Dib," Zim continued. "In the end you were a waste of my time. You were not a challenge. Of course, that's all I should have expected from a sniveling human not out of _smeet_hood yet-"

It was probably possible to take him from here, Dib judged. Possible to catch him off guard, in one swift rush, and take him down-

He knew that this level had a lower part somewhere in it, a sort of sunken arena impressed into the floor. He could use that.

"But really, Dib… _cutting_ yourself?" Pink teeth shone in a sneer. "The weakest thing I could _ever_ have expected you to do. I mean, come _on!_ Surely you are more than merely _emo-?"_

"_Shut up!" _Dib roared from his position on the floor. "You're so stupid, you don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what it's _like!"_

He didn't jump up. He retained that small bit of sanity. "You stupid alien, up on your high horse, all of the TIME – I'll show YOU! You'll never get to me, you'll never control me, I'm a human and humans have free _will-"_

He took out another bomb, flicked it into readiness, and kicked it away with a foot. It went rolling and skittering away across the floor until it exploded, the red ball of fire lighting up everything feverishly bright, cutting shadows hard and black against the floor. Zim looked over sharply, like a cat that had just seen something interesting, and crouched forward – the spider legs erupted from his pak and he bounced in a skittery run towards Dib.

The human dove to the side, rolled, staying low, hopefully out of range of the sharp metal points of the paklegs. They didn't grip well on the smooth floor and Dib took advantage of it, grabbed the lowest section of one, ripped it out further to the side so that Zim tipped a little. He still had three legs supporting him so that didn't work so well. Dib dropped it, dodged out of range of the other three – _Come on down here and actually fight, space boy. Come on, come on…! Got to get in range!_

Impossible to beat Zim if he couldn't get at the meatbody. Impossibly bad idea to get in a directly physical fight with him in the first place. But there was an advantage here, something to use, there had to be, there had to-

He stuck a bomb on the fly, to the bottom of some big tanky metal thing, and ran for cover. Zim didn't move in time and the explosion caught him, flaying back skin so silver flashed beneath. Was his blood silver? He couldn't remember. The blast knocked Zim off his paklegs and rolling. Dib caught his breath. _Yes yes yes. Just stay down, just wait for me to get there-_

Zim was on his feet again, mad now. Really mad. Hardly recognizable. Dib didn't care; he was panting and shaking and gleeful and he had a _strategy_. Kind of. He pelted away from the screaming alien towards the sunken arena, ducking and weaving and slithering as he went; he bolted in a zigzag pattern, so he would be harder to get a fix on. Zim was partly destroying his own lab now, tearing up experiments and machinery just to get at Dib. Metal cables and paklegs whistled past his ears.

He led the alien in a schizophrenic race towards the sunken arena. He had a plan. It was crazy and stupid and had a high probability of getting him killed. With luck it would probably kill Zim too.

Dib was getting a stitch in his side. It was the worst possible time, he could feel it pulling along his lungs and stomach – _Come on, a little more, but don't fail me now, if you work for me now I promise to take a nice long nap later and eat a healthy meal, come on._ For his stupid idea to work he had to be able to _really_ get at Zim, none of this cat and mouse stuff. Yes. Come on. Stay pissed, Zim, stay crazy and stupid and arrogant, keep being yourself. None of that weird stuff you were doing earlier. All calculating. Come on.

An explosion tossed him away and into a curving wall of something. He slid to the floor. He could feel how all the organs in him had gone _squish_, away from the direction of the blast - they all wanted to get away. He could imagine them all bailing out. There go the intestines, with lots of little feet, like centipedes – there goes the stomach, waddly and mottled and squishy – there go the lungs, a twin set. _Sorry, Dib. But man, you ain't been treatin' us right. We don't wanna work for you no more._

_Stupid inner bits, you don't have a union – you can't just leave – _and Zim was crashing down upon him, holding on to his throat with sharp pricky little claws, breathing and wheezing so some kind of cool greasy fluid spattered Dib's face. "Oh, look at this," he growled, "I really _am_ going to kill you for this mess, human_-_" he growled, and Dib with spots in front of his eyes and his head spinning and his bones throbbing reached into a pocket and pulled out a bomb and wedged it into Zim's pack when a port slid open.

Because it was the right fuckin' moment, man. Oh yeahhh.

Zim shook him back and forth, and let him go, and went flailing and screaming about, like a cat with tin cans tied on the tail. Like a little kitty kitty he was. Dib laughed, strangled, and tasted blood and oil on his lips. He rolled over with great slowness. There was a huge disconnect between his spinning head and the rest of his body. When he was up he wobbled back and forth on his feet. Yeah, baby, yeah, like that, just get up, just keep it up for a few more minutes. He stumbled over to Zim who was flailing uselessly and screaming and grabbed him up in a hug, like they'd had to do that one time with Keef who wanted to be friends and just wouldn't – _go – AWAY -_

Come on come on come on.

The arena was just a few feet away.

How much time did the bomb have left?

He stumbled over there with Zim. He could feel the alien tearing at him.

HOW much TIME did the bomb have LEFT?

He dipped Zim out over the edge – a drop of about ten feet. He swung him out and let him go.

HOW MUCH FUCKIN TIME DID I PUT INTO THAT BOMB GODAMMIT-

Smoky red fire streaked up in front of him. Shoved him backwards. Blew his eyes to hell. He lay still and was shaken by the great noise of it. Like a big hand had reached down into his guts and was shaking everywhere. Like heavy bass at a concert. Ohh yeah we're rockin' now, gonna rock the night away, gonna rock… me… home…

…

_Okay._

_Okay, I think that's enough, Dib._

_You've made your point._

_Be a good boy, now._

_Be a good boy and get up._

_Get up._

_Come on._

_Get up._

…

_Get UP, fucker, get UP, what's wrong with you-_

_Okay._

_Okay, getting up now._

He rolled over.

The sense of disconnection had increased into a yawning chasm. Orders clattered from point to point. Turn your head. Roll over. Onto your stomach. Pull up your arms. Brace your hands on the floor.

Get up.

Yeah, it was easy.

He walked over to the edge. Someone watching him might have said it looked like he had sea legs and was just getting used to land again, or was drunk. He looked down into the arena. Eventually he smiled weakly, with blood crusted around the corners of his mouth. He wasn't carrying the sack anymore; he'd dropped it a long time ago, because it wasn't a good idea to be carrying around pounds and pounds of things that went boom on you when somebody was going nuts trying to tear you into ribbons and there was fire all around.

The Spittle Runner sat on a platform near the center, gleaming and clean and lovely. The cockpit sat invitingly open. _First thing to do here,_ Dib thought, _is to shoot my way outta this place._ Heck, it would probably be easy with the Runner. Maybe, since they were in Zim's base, Tak would cooperate, at least to get them both on the ground level. He, he could dream, right? Maybe he could just follow the charred and smoking path she left to the surface. All the computer security was probably shot to hell by now, right?

It took him a few minutes to realize he was crying, softly and with no particular enthusiasm. He wrote it off to stress.

Zim was blown in half – the innards of the pak arced out in a rainbow of silver and twisted computer bits. The upper half of his body lay about five feet away from the lower half. Dib stared at him for a couple seconds, then went to the edge and lowered himself down slowly. It was only a drop of about three feet all told. He went and stood and looked down at the alien. Tears dropped on the floor.

It took him a couple minutes to see it. It took a little more time for the meaning of what he was seeing to register.

Insides.

There should. Be. Insides. EVERYWHERE. All over the floor. Like splatterart, splatterart, haha, like little kids do –

There wasn't.

Just that spill of little metal things, things that were so tiny and alien and complex that he couldn't tell what they were. Dib bent over and dropped heavily to his knees. He turned his head and looked into the cross-section of Zim's torso.

He'd seen Zim's guts once. A long time ago, with the x-ray goggles. It was a messy spaghetti-looking thing all wound up inside his body.

Here. This. Did not look like that – it was metal. A cross section of metal. A machine. A cross section of a machine. The pak was the only part of Zim that was a machine. The insides should be organic. Why weren't the insides organic? Sure, Zim could make sophisticated robots, but Zim wasn't a robot – he wasn't – he wasn't – Zim had a meatbody…

Slowly, Dib began to shake.

Decoy. Zim could make… perfect robots. Dib had seen them before. Zim had made a robot of Dib once, and even Dib couldn't tell the difference. As a trick. As a decoy. Zim had left a decoy. Of himself this time, as a distraction – as a little _toy – _as a _test_ –

Dib's shape was almost blurred now from the tremors that shook his body.

Slowly, he looked up.

Somewhere in the walls there was a click. A staticky noise, the noise a computer might make while clearing it's throat. The noise of something _beginning._

"_Hellooo, DIB,_" a voice began. Tinny and canned. Recognizable. _"I suppose if you're hearing this, then you've gotten out of that STUPID lab-asylum place I kept you in for a while. Well, GOOD for you. Too bad it doesn't really mean that much."_

Dib put a hand over his face.

"_But because I feel sorry for you – you and your pathetic little CAUSE – I guess I'll give you a hint anyway. 'Cause, I mean, it isn't ENTIRELY pathetic that you managed to get this far. Not BAD, little Dib._

_I'm off on, you know, that whole world-domination thing, and it's going to WORK this time. Doesn't matter what you do. I know it's hard to hear, so sorry… oh wait, no I'm not!_

_You can follow me if you want. Your ship is in the base. It won't make any difference if you DO, y'know, but hey… I figured it might be fun to see your smelly face one last time before I unveiled myself as ruler of the earth. What good is being a tyrant if you can't really make fun of your enemies, huh?_

_See ya later, DIB!"_

END OF CHAPTER 13

_October 9, 2005_

_Thanks goes to J. Random Lurker for her help on this chapter. Go read her fic!_


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